


The Reunion Party

by tbat



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, at least fifty percent of this is just Pandoria giving people grief, basically barely has a plot, characterization kinda flipflops from chapter to chapter because I Am Learning, i made Pyra kind of creepy and I'm sorry but also not, the other fifty percent is Mythra giving people grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbat/pseuds/tbat
Summary: One year on from the end of the game, the gang reunite for a dinner together. Meanwhile, Mythra gains a pair of new hobbies.





	1. Tiger! Tiger!

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a year on from the ending, so...you know. Spoilers. If you think I wrote Mythra to be too mean, you're probably right. Also, this kind of follows on slightly from my last fic, so it may help to read that. It's not that important, though.

One of the challenges, Mythra had found, of a world that didn’t really need saving anymore, was what, exactly, the Aegis was supposed to do. There weren’t any other Aegises to punch in the stomach until they stopped trying to punch all of Alrest in the stomach. Not unless Pyra got into a phenomenally bad mood one day. It had left her rather purposeless. Oh, sure, living, great stuff, thank you, Rex, you really showed me the light on that, even if half your big speeches about it are delivered by screaming them exclusively towards Pyra. Whatever. The sentiment rubbed off.

What do you DO while you’re alive, though? When your best skill is hitting things with a sword, and the guy who really needed hitting with a sword isn’t around anymore? In the year since Malos’ defeat, Mythra had found herself with a lot of spare time to dedicate to this problem. Pyra hadn’t had this issue. She’d taken about a day off to contemplate life before announcing “bakery!” and monopolizing Rex’s kitchen for 60% of her waking hours practicing. Mythra tried to help her and had accidentally set the milk on fire. She quickly abandoned the idea of the Aegis Sisters Bakery, Divine Sweets Served With A Smile or A Pout Depending On Who’s Working the Stand Today.

The answer to her burning questions on life, the universe and how to not be so bored all the time, as it turned out, was a hobby.

Her, Pyra and Rex had made their way to Torigoth for a rare reunion of all their friends. Everyone saw each other relatively regularly, but the horrors of conflicting schedules, mostly Morag’s, prevented the whole party from getting together more than a handful of times. This would be their first in around half a year.

Brighid had petitioned to Niall to give Morag a couple of days off, well-deserved after months of non-stop work. She had very slyly waited for Morag to not be in the room to protest while she did this. Asking Niall was really more a formailty. He didn’t even look up from his desk when he’d circled a random weekend and written “Morag’s Holiday!” in big, happy letters. He had to let the childishness out somewhere.

Brighid had passed the news around the group, suggesting they all meet in Torigoth. Partially because she thought it’d be nice if Morag didn’t melt to death in Mor Ardain for a couple of days, but mostly because it meant no one had to get Tora to leave his house. He was a busy Nopon. Allegedly. Important research in progress, couldn’t leave his post for long. Allegedly.

Rex, Pyra and Mythra had been the first to arrive by a considerable margin, getting to Tora's house at about midday. The rest weren't due to arrive for several hours yet. Rex and Pyra had quickly excused themselves to go and do the shopping for dinner. Mythra declined the offer to join them because watching Pyra painstakingly inspect cabbages before buying them filled her with a certain dread. Back when they shared a body, there was the possiblity of hijacking control and just buying some herself. Now, Pyra had no limits. Mythra did not wish to see what happened when no one could stop her anymore, and so she remained at Tora's, in safety and solitude.

And that’s when she’d seen it. Tiger! Tiger!

Excessively chipper, she thought. Why the exclamation marks? Why two? It had only taken a few seconds of staring at it before Poppi had unleashed the sales pitch on her.

“Tiger! Tiger! very fun game. Masterpon added new level. There six now. Mythra should try it.”

“Six? Last time I saw this thing it had five. It took him a whole year?” Mythra heard some faint whirrs and clicks as the gears literally turned in Poppi’s head.

“Development of Tiger! Tiger! been troubled,” she monotoned, carefully reciting Tora’s PR statement on the matter, “however, Masterpon assures players that new, exciting content is on way. Masterpon thanks players for their support.”

“So he’s just not been working on it much?” Poppi nodded sadly.

“Masterpon let down fanbase. Even if fanbase only Rex-Rex.” Mythra gave the machine a sidelong glance. She hadn’t been around much to see Tiger! Tiger! herself, personally. If she rummaged around she could see quite a few memories of Pyra perching just behind Rex and getting far too excited about his performance, but Mythra hadn’t really given it much thought.

She closed her eyes, snorting as she stumbled onto the one time Pyra had attempted to play herself. She’d have thought the hours of watching Rex would give her SOME ideas on how to play, and yet, she swam straight into a shark almost immediately.

Mythra was fairly sure she could out-do that attempt. Fairly sure. Probably. How hard could it be? In fact, she seemed to recall this game having a leaderboard for the top scores. Getting to the top of that shoudn't be so hard for an Aegis, right? She had divine wrists, blessed by the Architect himself to resist all cramps. No problem. None at all. She sat down in the threadbare chair before the screen, pressed start, and headed to level one.

That had been three hours ago. Mythra had not left the chair since then. She’d dug her nails into it a few times, but leaving? No, no, not an option. That’s giving up. Admitting defeat. Nah. This is PERSONAL, now.  
There he was. Squatting at the top of the leaderboard, his name taunting her. How did Rex have over 50000 points. That’s not right. That’s impossible. She’d been at this for hours and couldn’t even crack 20000. She cast her furious gaze further down the leaderboard.

REX 51420

POP 46583

DIC 38190

MYT 19734

PYR 1302

She resented Rex so very much. Not just for his score, but for his name being exactly three characters long. There could be no doubt who had the best score. REX. In all caps.

At least Poppi wasn’t too far behind. Not that it helped to be beaten by a small robot child.

She squinted. Who was DIC? Who’d even be that pathetically childi-Zeke. It was Zeke. She’d ask later to make sure, but she was putting money on Zeke.

A pang of painful realization hit her. ZEKE was better at Tiger! Tiger! than her? Well, now she couldn’t leave. No chance. Rex was an unwinnable war, but Zeke? Zeke was getting pushed off this leaderboard. No matter what. Mythra was too engrossed in her revenge to notice the rustling behind her.

“Ooh! A new fan! Well? Isn’t Tiger! Tiger! fun? Isn’t Tora great? New level best part of whole game! Better than Grampypon’s levels, even!”

Mythra’s neck swivelled round at light speed, her eyes glowing with hatred.

“HELLO, TORA,” she hissed. Tora slid an inch backwards. Far enough for a little extra safety, close enough to continue the hard sell.

“H-hello, Mythra. Is Mythra enjoying game? Mythra been there hours now. Poppi was watching, but had to go recharge battery. Silent judgement really drain Poppi's power.” Mythra chose to ignore the implication that Poppi hadn't liked what she was seeing.

“‘Enjoying’ isn’t the word I’d use. Tora. Why is this game like this?”

“...what Mythra mean?” Mythra jerked a finger towards her slowly sinking Nopon avatar.

“Watch this,” she said, angling the Nopon so it was just barely avoiding a ledge. Despite appearing to be a safe distance from it, the Nopon took damage, sending Mythra to the Game Over screen.

“Look! Look at that! I wasn’t touching the wall, and I died anyway! That’s really stupid, Tora!” Tora stared at the floor, his wings shifting to hide his face from her glare.

“Game development...game development very complex. Oversights bound to happen.”

“TORA WHY DO SOME OF THE RED SHARKS TAKE TWO HITS BUT THE OTHERS TAKE THREE HITS?” He whimpered in the face of Mythra’s burgeoning career as a games critic.

“I-is escalation of challenge. Game not exciting if not get harder.”

“They should be a new colour, Tora! You have green and red sharks already, why not...why not blue sharks, or yellow, or SOMETHING! I keep having to guess what kind of red shark it is!”

“...Tora Entertainment appreciates feedback of all fans and promise to make Tiger! Tiger! fun experience for players of all skill levels.” Mythra narrowed her eyes.

“‘All skill levels,’ Tora? Don't think I didn't notice that."

“W-well, Mythra have very low score. Not as low as Pyra, but low. Nowhere close to Tiger! Tiger! King Rex-Rex.”

“Do not mention Rex-Re-“ Mythra shook her head in frustration, “REX, right now. I want to beat him, but I...can’t. All I want is to be at the top of that leaderboard. To beat Rex. And Zeke. Zeke moreso, but Rex is number one, so it’s more impressive.”

“Has Mythra tried new level?” She shook her head again. She wanted to beat Rex, but she knew her limits. To an extent. She hadn’t progressed past level three yet. Infuriatingly, even as the levels got harder, Rex’s scores stayed about the same. She couldn’t even luck out and find one of his weaker levels. Tora continued speaking.

 

“Rex-Rex not seen new level yet. No one played yet other than Tora and Poppi for test purposes. Mythra could be undisputed queen of level six,” Tora suggested, waddling slowly away from her, back towards his work station. He'd be safer there. Mythra’s eyes lit up, shining with smugness. Ooh. There it was. Her ticket to lording it over everyone else. First to hit number one on the latest, greatest level, get her bragging in, then maybe unplug the machine before Rex or Zeke get a chance to try the level themselves, thus preserving her reign as the Tiger Queen. Perfect.

Her fingers danced across the buttons as she dove into level six, a grin of determination spreading across her face. She'd do it. She'd be the best. Maybe if she practiced this level enough, she'd get to the top of every other level, too. I mean, she reasoned, it's the hardest level, right? Master this, master everything else. 

Her Nopon appeared at the top of the purple tunnel. Her hand moved towards the stick, aiming to angle it to the left. Slow and steady. Learn the layout, get the route down, optimize it. Then, and only then, would she become the Tiger! Tiger! Que-

"Oh wow! Is that a new Tiger! Tiger! level? Mythra, you gotta let me try it!" What. Rex. What. No. NO. Why is he back already? Mythra gave the machine a swift kick of frustation. Then she said "ow" and hoped no one noticed that. Good thing her and Rex didn't share pain anymore. Or, come to think of it, her and Pyra, who was following Rex, buried somewhere behind her five massive bags of groceries. Rex only had four, although, he reasoned, he had taken all the heaviest ones, so really he had five as well, and, admitedly, he was maybe feeling a little defensive after three different old ladies had criticised him for his unchivalrous bag-sharing.

Pyra smiled at Mytha, not that anyone could see her doing it.

"I didn't know you played this game, Mythra! I tried once, and well..."

"I saw. How are you that bad? I wasn't even awake when Rex was playing this and I picked up on it by...uh, watching your memories of you watching him. So, I have...what, third-hand knowledge of it? And I'm still doing better than you. You know you're not meant to touch the sharks, right?" Pyra sulked amongst her vegetables.

"I...thought you could pet them."

"And you didn't think Rex would've tried that already?"

"Maybe he doesn't like sharks," she mumbled, instantly aware of how bad an excuse that was. Rex loomed over Mythra's shoulder, staring at the game.

"I'm alright with 'em. 'Cept in this game, I guess," he replied, not breaking eye contact with the screen. He prodded Mythra in the shoulder. 

"So? How is it? Are you gonna let me try?" She resisted the urge to break his offending fingers.

"I haven't played it, Rex. At least let me see it, first. You can't just hog the damn thing." 

"Y-yeah, you're right. I'll probably be on it for hours, anyway. You can play for a bit 'til then, try it out, y'know?" Rex deflated slightly, backing off towards Pyra and her many bags. He took a couple from her so they could start unpacking the supplies into Tora's fridge. It was highly likely the fridge wouldn't be large enough. At least some of the ingredidents would have to sit out. Pyra briefly wished she was an Ice Blade. That way, she could've just sat on the bags until dinner time. She glanced at the doorway, where she could hear a mixture of electronic beeps and furious button mashing.

"I hope she's enjoying it. I'm a little worried for the machine if she doesn't."

"Mythra been playing three hours already!" Tora chirped from afar, incredibly proud of his new, yet very critical, fan. Rex and Pyra stood in contemplative silence for a moment.

"Three hours...? Um, Mythra, have you been playing this ever since we left?" Pyra called through to Mythra.

"Y-yeah? So what? If Rex can play it for hours, I can too. Don't think I don't know how long you two were on this thing."

"H-he's good! It's fun to watch!" 

"All night, in one of these memories. Ooh, you waited until he fell asleep in front of the game and let him lean on your shoulder? Smooth. Aw, you tucked him into bed, too. So caring." She let out a theatrical gasp. "Ooh, bad Pyra, is that you moving onto the bed, too? You're not...cuddling him, are you? I can't believe you!" 

"Mythra!! That's private!!" Pyra squeaked, her voice cracking slightly. Mythra broke out into a sinister laugh. Tiger! Tiger! was one thing, but in many ways, teasing her sister was Mythra's true calling. She'd indulged in it from time to time, but there was a limit to how much you could aggravate someone you had to share a body with until she started deliberately smacking her head through windows and swapping over to you. These days, though, it was fairly risk-free, and all her best jokes could have an audience now, rather than her just being an intrusive thought in Pyra's head every so often. Today seemed like a great day to stretch her bullying muscles.

"You don't get to call "private," Pyra. Not when your head's got a roommate. Shoulda thought of that before you started making moves. There's a reason I told you to cut all that out, you know. Who knows what you would've done without me there. Keeping watch." 

"You weren't awakened back then! I thought you were going to stay that way!!" Rex stuck his head from out of the fridge. He'd been engrossed in attempting to squash all the apples into as managable a space as possible. He'd largely failed, and was now idly chewing on one to mitigate the damage.

"Who's awake now?" He could hear a muffled scoff from Mythra.

"Not you, clearly," she replied. 

Rex felt pretty confused. Clearly he'd missed something, going by Mythra's smug tone and the fact that Pyra was currently hiding her head inside one of the empty grocery bags. He carefully pulled the bag off of her head, only to find that she'd set her hands in front of her face as a second layer of defense. She yelped incoherently at Rex's concerned expression.

"Ididn'ttuckyouintobedIdidn'twatchyousleepIabsolutelydidn'tthinkabouthuggingyouinbedtokeepyouwarmit'sallliesshe'sjusttryingtoembarassmeSHE'SNOTSUPPOSEDTOLOOKATTHOSEMEMORIES!!!"

Rex blinked slowly. That sentence had a lot to unpack and very little time before the moving company started throwing all the boxes into the Cloud Sea. He sometimes forgot that Pyra and Mythra still had a little communal memory bank for anything before Malos' death. It didn't come up much these days. Evidently Mythra had been secretly harnessing this power for evil.

"...Uh...if it makes you feel any better, I don't mind if you did all that? It sounds...nice." He'd hoped that would help Pyra put her nervous breakdown on hold. She just emitted a series of mortified squeaks instead. Mythra had abandoned her post at Tiger! Tiger! central command to stand in the doorway and laugh at her hapless sister.

"Ah, man, you're still so fun to tease, Pyra," she said, shifting her attention towards Rex. "You know what the best part of this whole seperate bodies thing is? I can see her face now when I do that. It's priceless."

"You can't really see it right now. She's coverin' it."

"It's a real shame, huh? I love looking at her face. I just get so...lost in it."

"Yeah, me too," Rex agreed. He heard a tiny gasp from Pyra's general direction. Then he thought about what he just said and joined Pyra in cowering behind his hands.

"DAMMIT, Mythra!" She simply guffawed at the flawless double-KO before her.

"You guys are way too easy. I feel like I need a challenge. Someone new. Someone tough. Who do you think's better, Zeke or Morag? Nia, maybe?" Neither of her victims felt like responding. They were too busy putting in a concentrated effort to avoid looking at each other. Mythra decided to simply think outloud instead.

"Hm. Much as I'd love to give Zeke what's coming to him, I dunno...I'm not sure he's embarassable in the first place. Nia...Hm. I've been meaning to get back at her. Morag, though, ooh, so stern. So stoic. Just means she'd crack even harder than Pyra. Yeah. Morag. Perfect. Maybe I'll try and warm up on Zeke first, though. Really give it to him."

"Oh, if only you knew how many comly lasses had said the very same, Aegis! Unfortunately, Zeke von Genbu is a taken man!"

Mythra sighed and hit her head off a wall. Why did she even think she could work the magic on Zeke? The man was a walking embarassment and he loved every second of it. Maybe Pandoria would work, though. She couldn't be too far behind him. Just weave around him and start grilling her instead. Mythra peeked at the doorway. Zeke loomed large in it, his worst grin on show for his newfound audience. No sign of Pandoria. Possibly due to her being half his height and a third of his width. Oh well. She'd find the hapless Blade soon enough. 

Sensing that his winning smile wasn't getting the attention it deserved, Zeke finally noticed that no one in the room was using their eyes right now. Rex and Pyra's faces had long-since fused with their hands. Mythra was too busy headbutting the wall in annoyance. No-one was watching. A tremendous lack of respect towards his showmanship. That would not do. He strode confidentally towards Rex, kneeling down next to the poor young salvager.

"What's all this hullabaloo about, anyway, chum? I come see my favourite disaster-couple for the first time in months, and you're both sobbing on the floor!" Rex gave him a brief sideways glance before refocusing his efforts on erasing his face from existence.

"It...ah..." he stumbled, unsure of how much to tell Zeke. He didn't need him to make it worse. Mythra was good, but Zeke was the real master of leaping on innocuous comments and making them mortifying.

"We uh...just...we're feeling some mutual embarassment right now. I guess." Zeke nodded in sage understanding. Understanding of what, Rex wasn't sure.

"I see, I see. Romance gone awry. Classic. Let me guess, the old chicken dinner conundrum, was it?"

"The...what?" Rex had no idea what this meant. Pyra didn't even eat much chicken. He suspected it was going to be an awful answer.

"Well, you only eat a few spots on the chicken, chum. So, tell me, what's set you two off: breast or thigh?" Zeke jerked his head towards Pyra, then made a series of complex, yet deeply unpleasant wiggling motions with his eyebrows.

"Wh-what does that mean...?"

"Which one did you reach for, my man? Neither of you handled it well, by the looks of things."

"I didn't touch her anywhere!!"

"Pyra! Sweet, innocent Aegis of flame! Have your Driver's baser drives gotten the best of him lately!?"

"N-no!!"

"LIARS!"

Mythra whistled in awe. Much as Zeke got on her nerves, he had technique. He escalated that exchange from nothing to prodding at their sexual tension in seconds. It really made her lament her own limitations. She could stand around the edges of the relationship and throw rocks at the innocent end of things, but she didn't have Zeke's cavalier attitude to anything more lurid. If only she could be so classless. Both of them looked like they were about to cry. Those were good results.

"Zeke! I didn't do anything! It- It was Mythra, okay!? I dunno everything she said, but she's...I dunno! Pyra, what did she say?" Zeke swiveled round to face the whimpering red Aegis behind him.

"N-not telling..." she muttered in response. Zeke threw his hands up in despair.

"You can't just not tell me! I've got no material, now! Mythra, help me out here!" he pleaded to the still awe-struck girl. She was a little disappointed in the request for help. Looks like even the master had his limits. Lifting herself off of the wall, she walked over to Zeke and whispered quickly into his ear. His reaction was muted at best.

"That's it? I thought they were over this. I assumed the Zekenator could smile at the happy couple, dust his hands off, and walk into the sunset, satisfied with a job well done. I'll be charging them for the next lesson at this pace. She can't even handle a fond retelling of her own affectionate embraces? Absurd."

"Maybe they just haven't learnt how to deal with the "Public" in PDA yet."

"Not by my reckoning. Your sister's got quite the bold streak when it counts."

"Looks more like a yellow streak right now." Zeke went silent for a moment, idly fiddling with one of his belts as he contemplated. Inspiration struck him.

"Perhaps it's not the act of embracing our chum here that sets her off, but the context. A secret act of love unbeknownst even to the object of her own affections. A secret she carries deep within her bosom, never to reveal it...but the secret is outed, and she is betrayed by her closest companion! Her own sister spills every bean in the can, revealing her voracious appetite for her sleeping love! Her desires laid bare! Her carefully crafted veneer of purity, ripped asunder as he learns of her true yearnings!"

"...Could you please stop describing it like that? You...you're going to make Rex think I'm creepy," said Pyra, raising a fairly limp objection.

"Y'know, the more I hear about this, the worse I feel about being asleep for it," Rex whined.

"I believe the magic inherent to the moment lies in you being asleep as she does it, chum. You get nothing but a fleeting memory of her warmth, a reminder flickering on the edges of your conscious mind, of the eve her passions overtook her, and she-"

"M-my passions didn't overtake anything!" Pyra interrupted, still thoroughly stunned by the cruelty she was being subjected to. She was telling the truth. Pyra's passions went through life at a fairly even speed, allowing most passing motorists to zoom by with no resistance. There was minimal chance of them overtaking much. Slow and steady wins the race.

"I don't even remember anything anyway," Rex said petulantly, "I'm feeling really ripped off by this whole story."

"Use your imagination, Rex. You know what her hugging you feels like, just work backwards from there," said Mythra.

"I don't know what her hugging me in a bed feels like," Rex replied, too despondent to realize how bad a choice of words that was. For the first time ever, Mythra and Zeke exchanged a smirk. They nodded, and Mythra stepped forth to led the offensive.

"Oh, don't you? If only we knew someone with experience, huh? Wait. Hold on," she sarcastically tapped the side of her head a couple of times while giving Pyra a condescending wink, "We do have someone! Let's see, ooh, Uraya, 20th of Amalthober, 1am." Pyra's eyes widened with fearful realization. Oh no. That one was pretty bad. Mythra theatrically cleared her throat. She put on her best stage whisper for the monologue, to give it some atmosphere.

"Long after Rex has fallen asleep, a keen listener might hear a creaking door open. There, bathed in moonlight, is his Blade, Pyra, her heart beating fast. She treads lightly, careful to avoid any obstacles. If she stubs her toes, she'll stub his and wake him up, after all. It feels like an eternity, but she makes it all the way to the bed. An adoring smile appears on her lips as she gazes at her Driver, and her hands make their way around his shoulders. She shifts herself onto the bed, softly, gently, not risking anything as she lays next to him. She brings him in close, her touch feathery soft, as she presses her forehead against his. She runs a hand through his messy hair, and whispers, so quiet it's like her lips barely moved, "Rex...I love y-MMMNRPPH!!"

She'd already gotten the important details out in the open, but Mythra still felt a little slighted by the rude interruption. Pyra had mustered what little strength and dignity she had left to pounce on Mythra and shove one of the empty grocery bags over her head. Too little, too late, but it made her feel better. A brief round of applause from Zeke rang out across the room.

"I must admit, Mythra, masterfully done! I didn't know you had a flair for the dramatic. You wouldn't consider being my ghost-writer, would you?" Mythra lifted the bag up, letting it rest on her head like a sporty, yet affordable hat.

"No, I'd rather hold on to my material, thanks. It works pretty well." She gestured towards the crumpled, red heap on the floor, whimpering and chanting "it's not true Rex it's not true Rex it's not true Rex" at an alarming speed. 

Rex shuffled along the ground towards her and carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulder, reassuring her that he knew it wasn't true but that he'd be fine with it if it was. She clamped on to Rex and buried her face into his shoulder, swapping her chant to a series of muffled "thank yous" instead. He felt it was best to just be supportive with her denial right now. When she felt like owning up to her night visits, she'd already know they weren't an issue.

Well, okay, he was willing to admit they were a bit odd. He probably wouldn't be okay with them from anyone else. It was fine if it was Pyra. Still kinda weird, though.

Having delivered the coup d'grace, Mythra felt a pang of sympathy for her mess of a sister. Oh, sure, teasing her was fun. Endlessly so. She had zero defenses against embarassing stories, and Mythra had a frontrow seat to every single embarassing thing Pyra had done between waking up and their seperation. But even she knew when to drop the mockery and be...well, nicer.

She approached the pair and crouched down, awkwardly trying to find a free spot to give Pyra her own hug. The result was something akin to a failed piggyback ride. It'd do.

"C'mon, you know I don't mean it. You're just really easy to fluster, okay? I can't resist it." Rex shot her a look that suggested he wasn't really feeling the sincerity from this apology.

"You're not exactly hard to wind up, either, y'know."

"N-no idea what you mean," she muttered, pre-emptively gritting her teeth. Rex gave her a sickening grin.

"So, what's your best Tiger! Tiger! score, anyway? You played for so long, you must be great by now!"

"KEEP LAUGHING, SHORT-STUFF, YOU'RE GONNA BOW DOWN TO THE TIGER! TIGER! QUEEN SOONER OR LATER."

"Low, then?"

Mythra had a long list of angry, yet perfectly erudite rebuttals to this insult. Having weighed her many options, she chose to condense them into a single groan of frustration. Then she stomped out of the room, back towards the Tiger! Tiger! machine. Zeke watched her stroppy exit, then gave Rex an approving thumbs up.

"Nicely done, chum. Quite the reversal."

"It's not exactly hard. She's the most 'can dish it out but can't take it' person I've ever met."

"Hah! I'll say. I'm sure a few rounds on the ol' funbox will calm her right down tho-"

"PANDORIA WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Zeke hung his head in disappointment and followed the sound of Mythra's outrage, prepared to rescue his Blade if need be. 

Pandoria was crouched into a ball on the seat in front of the Tiger! Tiger! console, replaying the newest level for the tenth time. She leaned her neck backwards, peeking up at the screaming Aegis behind her.

"Playing Tiger! Tiger!, duh. What's the problem?" The Nopon on screen seemed to be effortlessly dodging every obstacle that came his way. Not a single chest or Ether Crystal left behind, either. Pandoria was playing pretty much flawlessly. Mythra couldn't bear to watch it.

"How are you...how are you so good at this game?" Pandoria shrugged and raised an arm slightly. Small sparks of electricity danced across her fingers.

"Electric Blade, remember? I've gotta good relationship with machines. Put me in front of one long enough, I'll know everything there is to know about it."

"YOU'VE RUINED EVERYTHING! I WAS SUPPOSED TO GET THE HIGHEST SCORE! TO BE AT THE TOP OF THE BOARD!"

"Were you? Hehe. Whoops. Sorry. It's fine, Mythra, you just gotta beat my score!"

Mythra stomped past Pandoria and nudged her out of the way to get a look at the screen. A few moments of quiet contemplation passed. She then left the house in a torrent of indignant swearing and occassional screams. Zeke stared in shock at the doorway she'd sulked her way through.

"My word. I didn't think an Aegis could use words like that. Seems almost blasphemous, don't you think?" Pandoria swiveled her body around, sitting backwards in the chair.

"I think all the purity went to Pyra, my Prince. She'd probably explode if she swore. What's with Mythra, anyway? Why's she care so much about the scoreboard?"

"Who knows? Everyone needs a hobby, I suppose. How did you do, anyway?" Zeke asked, leaning in closer to the console to admire his Blade's performance.

"Eh. I think I did okay. I'm getting the hang of this thing now," she replied, turning back around and entering her final initial on the scoreboard. There it was. Level six's first reigning champion. With 62000 points, the Tiger! Tiger! dark horse had emerged: DIC. Zeke groaned at the name.

"Really, now, Pandy, that's dreadfully childish."


	2. Morag's Inability To Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morag and Brighid are embroiled in vigorous debate over holding hands. Mythra's tantrums shake the foundations of Alrest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can barely write any of the Xenoblade 2 characters as is, but I really cannot write Morag and Brighid. I apologize if I have butchered them awfully.

"Brighid, I really must insist you...unhand me."

" _Unhand_ you, Lady Morag? I'm hardly taking you prisoner, am I?"

Morag quietly stared down towards her hand. It was currently lost somewhere within Brighid's own, considerably warmer hand. It had not seen the light of day for some time now. Morag tugged her arm slightly in a bid for freedom. Brighid's tight grip proved to be the highest bidder, and the auction for freedom was lost.

" _Brighid,"_ she hissed, "There is a  _time_ and a  _place_  for this sort of...behaviour."

A small frown formed on Brighid's lips.

"You make it sound rather sordid, Lady Morag. I believe this is quite a chaste act. Platonic, in many cases."

Morag shook her head, suspiciously eyeing the Ardainian soldiers scattered throughout the room. They were aboard a military Titan ship, bound for Gormott, sat in one of the recreational spaces. Unlike the majority of the ship, which was largely metallic, this room incorporated a bit more wood, to give it a thin veneer of a homey atmosphere. A few tables and chairs were spread throughout the room, most of them unusally empty. It was hard to get too into poker night when your boss was sitting right there and knew exactly how much of your salary had just gone down the drain, so Morag's presence had had something of a chilling effect on the room's usual occupants. What soldiers were there milled to and fro, some patrolling, others simply on break, admiring the view from the windows, or sitting down, adamantly  _not_ gambling.

Brighid had initially suggested they get a less  _weaponized_ form of transport for their holiday. Morag felt that it would set a poor example for the rest of the military if the Special Inquisitor were to gallavant beyond her regulation limits by taking a pleasure cruise. What those limits were, no one except Morag was certain. Right now, she felt that Brighid was forcing her to blast past them with her reckless action.

"I've an  _image_ to maintain amongst the men, Brighid. I concede that I may be due some recuperation, but I hardly think it befits the title of Special Inquisitor for me to act in such an...amorous manner in public. What will the men  _say?_ "

" _Amorous,"_ Brighid repeated with barely concealed exasperation. She tightened her grip on Morag's hand, largely out of spite. "I doubt the soldiers will care to see us like  _this_ , Lady Morag. Perhaps if we were to go further, yes, but we're all grown adults here. Something like this should mean nothing to them."

"Adulthood has little to do with the matter. We can't go about our business like a pair of lovestruck schoolgirls. It sets a poor example. If the men see the Inquisitor holding her partner's hand, they'll think her some frivilous young maiden, not a respectable military leader. They won't be able to take me, or you, seriously. It's a matter of perception, and I refuse to let their image of me be compromised."

Brighid turned her head towards the soliders in front of the pair. Morag continued to be uncertain if Brighid was actually  _seeing_ anything, or if she just...knew what was in front of her, somehow.

"It seems to me that none of the troops care in the slightest, Lady Morag. I'd wager we're the last thing on their minds." Morag grunted in response.

" _I'd_ wager you're wrong. Come," she said, rising from her seat and prompting Brighid with a tug of the arm, "Why don't we see who's right on this matter?" Brighid sighed, stumbling to her feet. She deliberately inched closer to Morag, just to up the ante a little.

"I hardly feel this is necessary. If anything, you're simply drawing attention to it." Morag ignored this fairly sound argument, mostly because she couldn't think of a rebuttal. She advanced towards the nearest solider, who was leaning against a bannister, staring out the window.

"Private. How far 'til we arrive in Torigoth?" The soldier yelped in shock, his slouched posture immediately straightening to a painful degree.

"S-special Inquisitor! H-half an hour, I believe! We've made quite good time!" Morag nodded. The Titans merging with Elysium had caused a whole host of political  _complications_ , but one helpful side effect was that journeys between Titans had gotten a lot more consistent. Your flight wouldn't be delayed by five hours because Mor Ardain had wandered off a little further than you'd hoped.

"Excellent. Thank you, Private, you are dismissed," she responded in her well-practiced authoratative tone. The soldier saluted in acknowledgement, and, very slightly, almost unnoticably, Morag noticed that his helmet seemed to tilt downwards. Too far downwards. Almost as if he had  _noticed_ something. She nodded to Brighid, and the two walked away, back towards their seat.

"I believe I've won this particular wager, Brighid. He was far too nervous over such a simple question. This carry-on of yours has clearly rattled him."

"You can't  _possibly_ know that, Lady Morag. He was surprised  _before_ he looked at us. Surely it was merely the sudden appearance of the Special Inquisitor herself that shocked him? With her Blade, no less?"

"We're in the same room. He should know full well it's a non-zero possibility that we'd approach him."

"We've not left our seats since the journey began. I imagine none of them are expecting us to speak with them at all at this point." Morag pursed her lips in annoyance at Brighid's infuriating logic.

"...Very well, we shall have a second round. We'll approach from the front. That way, they cannot possibly be surprised by our presence." Brighid rolled her eyes. She then realized Morag couldn't see her do that, so she sighed loudly to help her out.

"As you wish, Lady Morag," she said, trying to stuff as much sarcasm into those short syllables as possible.

Morag glanced to her left, and noticed a soldier walking in through the door, straight across the room, with no detours. Clearly on patrol. He'd do nicely. All they had to do was walk  _at_ him. With another tug to Brighid's arm, they made their way over to the soldier and blocked his path. His nerve held together somewhat better than their previous target's. He simply went "Geh?!" before clearing his throat and saluting the pair.

"Special Inquisitor Morag! Lady Brighid! Nothing to report in here!"

"I'm...aware. We've been in this room for some time now," Morag said, slightly more impatiently than she intended.

"A-ah, of course, you're quite right, Special Inquisitor. My apologies," he stuttered, silently thankful that his helmet concealed his embarassment.

"Worry not, it was an honest mistake. Now then, I'd...ah..." Morag trailed off, suddenly aware that she hadn't actually thought of an excuse to speak with the solider. She'd used "how long until we arrive," already, and the man she'd asked was only four feet away from her. She'd look...well, foolish to ask the same question twice. Morag flicked her eyes towards the relaxing soldiers. Ah. There we go.

"You are, ah, relieved of duty for the time being. You may rest in here for...a while." Brighid leaned her head towards Morag's ear.

"Perhaps you should specify a time, Lady Morag," she whispered. Morag's eyes widened very, very slightly, to the point where only Brighid's perceptiveness would ever be able to detect it.

"Consider yourself off-duty until we arrive in Torigoth. At ease," she said, clearing her throat and admiring her seamless course-correction of the conversation.

"R-really? Thank you, Special Inquisitor!" the soldier saluted again, then turned away from her, walking towards the nearest chair. Once again, Morag spotted it. He glanced backwards towards them, his head tilted ever so slightly downwards. He  _was looking._

"Another victory for me, Brighid. That fellow noticed, too. Perhaps you'd best concede defeat."

"He  _noticed,_ but he didn't  _react,_ Lady Morag. He was quite composed when we approached him, as well, so I wouldn't say it disturbed him in any way. I really do believe you're the only person on this ship who cares where your hand happens to be right now." Morag grumbled in frustration.

"Once more. A final test. I shall prove my suspicions right yet." Brighid didn't bother replying. She just let Morag drag her to their next victim, a soldier reclined on a chair, the only one at his table. Morag and Brighid's shadows loomed over him. Morag made sure to actually prepare an opening line for this attempt  _before_ speaking to him. Much like the previous two, he quickly straightened his posture and saluted them, though he seemed far less intimidated by their presence.

"Pardon me, Private. Have you noticed anything unusual aboard the ship during the journey?" Morag asked, making sure that her and Brighid's clutched hands were center in his vision. No way to avoid it, no way to miss it. This man's reaction when the evidence was thrust in his face would seal this debate.

He paused in thought for a moment.

"I don't believe so, Special Inquisitor. Is there some sort of security concern?" Morag eyed him closely. He seemed fairly collected. Perhaps Brighid was correct.

"No, we are not aware of any issues ourselves. Simply checking in, in case one had emerged. My apologies for troubling you. At ease," she replied, ready to back away.

"Not at all, Special Inquisitor," the soldier paused once again, as if mustering up some courage. He became visibly nervous, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "O-oh, and on behalf of the rest of my squadron, c-congratulations, Special Inquistor, Lady Brighid. The two of you make a lovely couple." Morag's face flushed red, and her normally iron-clad composure had a large fissure spread across it.

"T-thank you, Private. That's...very considerate of you, and your...comrades. We hope to...set a fine example, for you all. In military discipline and...that," Morag said, barely able to respond. She turned away shakily, attempting to slowly lurch away, back to the safety of her seat. Brighid gently let go of her hand, allowing Morag to escape, before turning her attention back towards the soldier.

"I'd like to thank you as well. However..." Brighid said, a small smile on her lips, "Perhaps...don't mention this incident to anyone else. I'm sure you understand, someone of her position can't afford to show weakness, and I'm...afraid you just unearthed a particularly potent weakness of hers. I believe she'd rather have it remain under wraps."

"O-of course, Lady Brighid, but...well, the whole army knows, I'd say. In fact, we'd had our suspicions for years."

"Well, yes, but she clearly isn't aware of that. Simply carry on as though you haven't noticed, won't you? It will put her mind at ease."

"U-understood, Lady Brighid," the soldier replied, saluting her once again. Brighid nodded to him and walked back towards Morag, gently sitting down next to her. Morag wordlessly slid her hand back into Brighid's and clasped tightly. Her Blade laughed softly.

"You seem more comfortable with this arrangement now, Lady Morag." Morag's face remained burning red.

"What good does it matter now? The men know fine well what our private affairs are. I may as well embrace the humiliation, rather than fight it." Brighid returned Morag's grip, her warm hand covering Morag's.

"From what I can gather, they barely care at all. To put it another way, I was  _correct._ I believe you can put this particular worry out of your mind." Morag afforded herself a very small smile.

"Very well. But we go no further than this in our professional lives. Understood?"

"Of course, Lady Morag."

The trouble with her wording, Morag quickly noticed, was that the second their feet touched Gormotti soil, they were officially on holiday. In other words, not currently at work, and therefore not in a professional setting. Morag and Brighid had barely exited the gates of the Ardainian military base on the outskirts of the city before Brighid had closed the gap between them as much as she could, wrapping her entire arm around Morag's.

Morag chose to let this happen. Partially because she knew Brighid would win the argument, thanks to her poor word choice, and partially because she was rather enjoying the closeness. The pair walked slowly through Torigoth, allowing themselves a rare opportunity to take in the sights of the city, rather than simply rush through on some important business or another. It was a fairly warm, pleasant afternoon. Wasting a day like this by hurrying seemed almost immoral. They reached the large bridge connecting the base and nearby farmlands to Torigoth proper.

"I must say, I half-expected a welcoming committee of some sort. Not in the base, of course, but I'd have thought  _someone_ would come to meet us outside of it. And yet, no one," Morag mused, gazing off the side of the bridge to the sea. She still hadn't adjusted to the lack of clouds yet, but the sight of a clear, blue ocean wasn't exactly unpleasant. In time, it would seem quite normal.

"Perhaps we are simply the first ones to arrive. Tora may not have wanted to leave his home unattended."

"Indeed, you may be right. Although..." Morag said, squinting at a familiar figure somewhere on the other side of the bridge. White clothes, blonde hair. No mistaking it. Mythra was stirding up the stairs to the lower levels, where Tora's house was located. It was a somewhat more forceful stride than Morag would assume was appropriate for the situation, but she paid it little mind.

"I do believe that's Mythra. Odd that she'd be meeting us on her own, but perhaps Rex and Pyra are otherwise occupied at Tora's."

"Yes, perhaps they're practicing to make sure they handle public affection better than you do, Lady Morag." Morag scoffed.

"Grant me some credit, Brighid. My composure may falter in the face of your advances, but I'm hardly... _them._ Do you recall our last meeting? When they held hands, they couldn't even look at each other. _"_

_"_ My apologies. You don't have a meltdown of that calibur when we hold hands. You simply harass half the ship's crew about it instead."

"Your sarcasm is noted, Brighid. Shall we go ahead and meet her?"

"As you wish."

The pair resumed walking across the bridge to meet Mythra. They heard her long before they actually reached her.

From around halfway across the bridge, they could hear a steadily rising torrent of screeched swearing, interspersed with random, inarticulate yells of anger, as Mythra stomped up the stairs. She did not appear to be moving towards them intentionally. Her blind rage just seemed to be taking her wherever was convienient.

Several passersby had stopped in their tracks to stare at Mythra in bewilderment. Many of them felt their understanding of several historical events being rapidily rewritten to include the fact that the legendary Aegis had a very colourful vocabulary. A small Gormotti child tugged at his mother's hand, asking if he was allowed to start swearing now, since the Aegis was doing it.

Her rampage helpfully led her along the bridge, towards a baffled Morag and Brighid. Mythra eventually noticed them as she approached, and cut herself off mid-"SHIT" to wave at them.

"Hey. You guys got here pretty early," she said, snapping seamlessly into a level tone. Morag did not know what to make of this. Neither did Brighid. They exchanged a brief glance and seemed to mutually agree to just roll with it.

"In...deed. I assume Rex and Pyra are at Tora's?"

"Yeah. Zeke's there, too. With... _her."_ Morag's eyebrows raised. She wasn't aware Pandoria could inspire that level of venom in someone's voice. In fact, Pandoria was probably one of the more amiable members of the group. Morag covered her face with her hand. She leaves the group alone for half a day and Mythra's having a public breakdown. Typical.

"Has something...happened? You seem a tad tense," Brighid asked, tactfully downplaying Mythra's tantrum.

"Oh, nothing. Just having my life ruined by that EVIL, CONNIVING, SNEAKY LITTLE SH-"

"A spot of minor friction, then. I'd suggest you find a quiet place to calm down. Possibly find an abandoned cave to yell profanities in," Morag interrupted.

"THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING."

"I...I see. Carry on, then." Morag gestured towards the Ardainian base in the distance behind them. "Perhaps the soldiers will let you scream in one of the empty barracks if you say I've granted permission." Mythra huffed at the condescension in Morag's voice, but nodded in gratitude anyway.

"That...sounds good, yeah. Don't mind me, just carry on," she said, marching past them and immediately resuming her cavalcade of Pandoria-themed insults. Morag glanced behind her, and could see the soldiers standing at the gates of the base visibly quake in fear at Mythra's approach. Brighid joined her in watching Mythra leave.

"Do you think they'll be alright? Perhaps we should explain the situation." Morag shook her head.

"They've trained for crisis scenarios like this. I'm sure they'll be fine. Let's carry on. I'm rather curious as to what Pandoria could possibly have done to cause...that."

"I agree. It must have been quite terrible."

Around fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Tora's home. Morag tested the door and found it unlocked. She tutted under her breath. Sloppy security. Upon entering the house, they found Rex, Zeke and Pandoria huddled around Tora's Tiger! Tiger! machine.

"I'm just saying, Zeke, writing 'DIC' is really childish. What if Pyra reads it? You know how sensitive she is to this stuff," Rex said, folding his arms in disapproval.

"I-it was Pandy, I tell you! You don't really think I'd be so crude, do you, chum!?"

"Yeah."

"Rex! Chum! You're killing me, here! Tell him I didn't do it, Pandy!" Zeke yelped, grabbing hold of Pandoria's shoulders. She shook him off and gave a tearful glance to the ground. She clasped her hands to her chest and sniffled.

"Rex...I tried to stop him, but he just...he just wouldn't! He said it would be funny!" she whimpered, hamming as hard as she possibly could.

"You  _traitor!_ The moniker of 'DIC' is yours to bear alone, Pandy, and you  _know it!"_

Morag stared dumbfounded at the spectacle before her.

"I believe I'm beginning to understand what happened here, Brighid. Pandoria seems to be on quite the warpath today." Behind her, Brighid giggled very quietly.

"Hehe...'DIC'..."

Morag turned to face her Blade, disappointment etched into every inch of her face.

"Really now, Brighid. At your age."


	3. The Aegis of the Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang face a threat unlike any other. Pandoria gives Zeke grief for her own amusement.

"Pyra, let's go!" Rex shouted, signalling his Blade with a nod. His arm stretched out towards her, their shared weapon tightly clutched in his hand. She returned the nod, a grimace of determination on her face.

"Rex, I'm with you!" she responded, moving in closer and grabbing the weapon's hilt. Lines of ether coursed through her, causing her body to glow with emerald light. Flames began spewing forth from her hand, spreading across their blade. As one, they leapt into the air, raising the weapon high.

"BURNING SWORD!" they screamed simulataneously, before bringing the blade crashing down towards the target with all their might. The pair slowly backed away, gasping for breath as they stared at their defeated foe. Rex smirked in triumph. Pyra gave a small sigh of relief.

The onion was sliced cleanly in half, and was lightly roasted on top of that. Nice. Looked tasty. Rex and Pyra fumbled for a moment, trying to untangle their hands from eachother without dropping the knife. The one downside of this technique, they'd found, was that knives did not have a long enough hilt to comfortably seat two people. Holding hands every time they did it seemed like a decent trade-off at first, but the inconvienience was kind of spoiling that particular silver lining. They eventually managed to safely pass the knife into Pyra's care without any incidents. She moved towards the kitchen counter, and picked up one half of the freshly sliced onion to give it a closer inspection.

"Hmmm...It's  _good_ , but...no. No, it needed a little extra heat. We're getting closer, though!" she said, carefully setting the onion half back onto the cutting board.

"Nice, nice. One more time, then?" Rex asked, his hand moving back towards hers, trying to grab hold of the knife. Pyra nodded in response, her body already shifting into an alert stance. Once again, ether flowed between the two of them as flames engulfed the knife.

"BURNING SWORD!"

Several feet away, slouched at the dinner table, Zeke stared at them with a mixture of admiration and impatience. He turned towards Morag. In what he had deemed a deliberate act of malice, she had sat on his left-hand side. The side he proudly wore his sacred eyepatch on. This forced him to turn his entire head her way whenever he wanted to speak with her. Ludicrous behaviour from one political figure to another. Practically a declaration of war. But he let it slide.

"I must say, I appreciate their showmanship. Architect knows the Zekenator wouldn't dream of disrespecting the effort. But-"

Another "BURNING SWORD" cut across his complaint. He grimaced.

"Do they have to do that for  _every_ cut? It seems a tad...slow."

Morag grunted in mild amusement.

"Perhaps so, but they've hours yet before dinner is to be served. I see little harm in letting them have their fun."

Zeke stroked his chin in thought.

"They do seem to be having quite the time of it," he mused, before nudging his half-asleep Blade, who had flopped her head onto his shoulder. A small amount of dribble was spilling out the side of her mouth from her nap. Zeke had only agreed to this arrangement provided she wore a bib, which she had haphazardly shoved under her chin. His coat was a family treasure and he refused to let her stain it unnecessarily.

"Perhaps we should try a bit of kitchen theater ourselves, eh, Pandy?" She groaned sleepily in response before forcing her eyes open just far enough to squint.

"You know I can't cook, my Prince," she mumbled.

"Well, you may assist me as I-"

"Neither can you." Zeke spluttered indignantly in response. Pandoria flinched at the small amount of spittle that was flung her way.

"Are you forgetting my patented Zekeburgers, Pandy!?" She shrugged, giving Zeke a small static shock as her shoulder lightly brushed against him.

"You bought four burgers from the restaurant at the harbor and then made two  _really_ big burgers out of them. That doesn't count as cooking."

"But...you gave them a rave review!"

"Yeah. Whoever  _actually_ cooked them did a great job."

Zeke's face fell at his allegedly loyal companion's cruelty. Morag tried, and failed, to stifle a laugh.

"My word. I'd have thought a man of your...roaming lifestyle would have at least some culinary skill, Zeke. Rather shocking, really." Brighid leaned in closer to her Driver.

"Argentum monkfish," she said, with insufferable smugness. Morag grumbled in annoyance.

"Extenuating circumstances, Brighid. That was hardly your finest hour, either."

"I...suppose not," Brighid admitted, trying not to think about her own behaviour that day too hard. Within Brighid's diary were centuries of experiences and memories, entire lifetimes meticulously recorded in as much detail as she could, every single day of her many lives given a page of its own. Her entry for that day read as follows:

"Today, I cooked with Lady Morag and Pyra. It did not go as planned." Technically correct, yet concealing a darker truth.

As the group conversed, dinner preparations progressed at a leisurely pace. Most of the vegetables had been chopped, but there was still a small mountain of ingredients left to prepare. Rex and Pyra had agreed to seperate for the time being and work on seperate tasks, taking up positions at opposite ends of the kitchen. Divided, yet united in spirit.

Pyra slid a tray into the oven, cheerfully shouting "Flame Nova!" as she adjusted the temperature. Meanwhile, Rex brandished a rolling pin, setting it at the edge of a pile of dough.

"ROLLING SMASH!"

He began flattening the dough out, only to find half of it peeling off and getting stuck to his pin. He whacked it off the board in annoyance. The dough remained quite clingy.

"Uh. Pyra? Little help?"

Pyra glanced towards him and sighed very quietly before putting the pair of pans she was holding down. She held out her hand towards him, gently sliding the pin out of his grasp.

"Rex...how did you even do that?"

He scratched his head in embarassment, not entirely sure how this had happened either.

"Well, I...rolled it. And it just kinda came apart and got stuck."

Pyra carefully scraped the attached dough off the rolling pin, neatly plopping each piece back where it came from in the original dough-pile. The rolling pin was positioned carefully at the edge of the dough before she lightly nudged Rex.

"Here, watch me. You have to roll it a little more gently, and that'll keep all the dough together," she explained patiently, slowly flattening the dough. Within a few rolls, the dough was perfectly flat, and in one piece no less. Rex observed quietly, only really half-absorbing the lesson.

Truth be told, he was mostly just enjoying watching Pyra, rather than taking in the fine detail of what she was doing. Rex found watching Pyra cook incredibly entrancing, seeing her so immersed in something she loved and had mastered so thoroughly. There was a certain elegant precision to her cooking techniques, perfected to such a degree that made it seem effortless, yet he could tell she was pouring her whole being into every meal she prepared. In a sense, he felt that Pyra's love of cooking reflected her seemingless bottomless kindness- she genuinely loved to prepare food for others, just to make them happy. To see her cook filled him with an understanding of just how caring a person she was. It exemplified why he loved her as much as he did, for her incredible warmth and compassion.

She also looked cute when she concentrated. He tried not to dwell on that one. By this point, Rex had switched to full-time staring at Pyra, only dimly aware that she was supposed to be teaching him.

A fresh new grimace sauntered across Zeke's face as he watched from afar.

"Oh, Architect above, look at him. Making moony eyes at her. It's so sweet it's making my teeth ache." Morag quirked an eyebrow.

"I'd have thought you'd be the first to applaud this. I'm given to understand you've become quite the...romantic, as it were," she said, leaning forward to glance meaningfully at Pandoria. She waved her hands frantically, mouthing " _don't get him started,"_ at a bemused Morag. Zeke inhaled with as much gravitas as he could muster. He was getting started.

"Indeed, the bards have no doubt penned their fair share of sonets about our  _incredible_   _love,"_ Zeke paused to grin horribly at Pandoria, "and a few bawdy limericks as well, I'd wager."

Pandoria held up a single finger and wagged it threateningly as sparks violently flew off of it. Zeke wasn't sure how many zeroes there were in the voltage, but he guessed it was more than four. He choose to back down on this particular venture.

" _However,"_ he said hurriedly, pushing the conversation down a safer avenue of dicussion, "This display of theirs is upsetting my appetite. You're not supposed to eat this much sugar before dinner."

"He means he's jealous about them being cute together," Pandoria chimed in.

"The Zekeanator does not need an interpretor, thank you, Pandy."

"I believe Pandoria is right, Zeke. Your envy is quite apparant. Have you considered staring at her for a spell? I'm sure you can replicate the general idea," Brighid said, providing some back up to her fellow Blade.

"Bah! My gazes are smouldering! Intense! Full of passion! Not those of a lovesick puppy, thank you!" Pandoria yanked at his sleeve, prompting Zeke to swivel back round to face her.

"I wuv yoo, my Pwince," she squeaked in her most overbearingly cutesy voice. Zeke's single exposed eye immediately glistened with Dramatic Emotion.

"P-Pandy, my sweet princess! I love you, too!" he sobbed. Pandoria smirked and leaned sideways to give Brighid a thumbs up.

"Lovesick. Totally. I think he's crying, too."

"As I expected. Very resourceful of you, Pandoria." Zeke's quivering lips flopped downwards into a massive pout.

"Very  _manipulative_ of you, Pandy. I must say, your behaviour today has been  _shocking,"_ he whined, slumping forward on the table.

"Ooh, good pun."

"I'm inclined to agree with Zeke. You've left quite the trail of devastation in your wake from what I can gather," Morag added, pausing in thought for a moment. "We spoke with Mythra on our way over here. She was...rather tense. One might say." She paused again. Normally she had confidence in her strategic decisions, but allowing Mythra access to Ardainian military facilities may have been unwise. It's possible there were no longer any Ardainian military faciltiies in Torigoth at all at this point.

"Hey, that one wasn't on purpose! How was I supposed to know she cared  _that_ much about that dumb game?" she said defensively.

"Game not dumb! Family heirloom, very not dumb!" Tora shouted from his workshop, barely audible above a series of clangs and ominous sparks.

"That...intelligent game," Pandoria half-heartedly corrected. Morag gave her a puzzled look.

"Game...? You don't mean that machine you were gathered around earlier?"

"Yep. Said she wanted to get the highest score. I dunno why she's so mad, she could've just asked me to teach her. Maybe if I offer she'll calm down."

Somewhere behind Pandoria, the door creaked open, incredibly slowly and deliberately, as though it was being pushed by someone trying to analyze and understand the very concept of door-opening. A series of heavy, plodding footsteps followed, each step punctuated by a full second's gap before the next one.

Eventually, Mythra emerged through the doorframe.

Her hair was frazzled, exploding into new and exciting directions. Her eyes were half-lidded and bloodshot. And yet, she entered with an unsettlingly serene smile that was somehow devoid of any true warmth or joy. She locked eyes with Pandoria for an instant, her expression completely static. Pandoria shivered and briefly wondered if there were any nearby ships to lock her in for another five hundred years.

"Hello, everyone. I'm back," she announced with zero emotion. She flicked her eyes towards Morag, who scooped her hat off from the table and slammed it onto her head, purely to pull its brim down over her eyes.

"Thank you for the barracks, Morag. I believe I made a couple of your soldiers cry. I'm very sorry about that."

"That's...quite alright," Morag replied suspiciously, before shuffling towards her Blade.

"Brighid. We may wish to give the traumatized men some compensation. Remind me to send them a box of chocolates as an apology," she whispered. Brighid nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps you should write them a personalized letter as well."

"Indeed. It is my negligience that brought this about, after all."

Pyra glanced over from the kitchen and stepped away from the stove for a moment to greet her sister.

"Welcome back, Mythra! Are you feeling better now?" she asked, smiling at her. Mythra's smile remained deeply unpleasant, a stark contrast to Pyra's genuine warmth.

"Hello there, my dear sister. Yes, I feel much better now, thank you," she said, smile locked in place and voice as cold as a Tantalese grave. Pyra's expression grew troubled.

"Oh...dear. Rex, something's wrong with Mythra." Rex moved next to Pyra, his face matching hers.

"Yeah, no kidding," he said, "I don't like this at all. I think I actually prefer it when she's insulting people."

"Oh, Rex. I'm hurt. Why would I ever be so cruel?"

"Uh...It's just, you're normally kind of..." He nudged Pyra lightly, "Pyra, help me out here." She squeaked quietly, not really sure how to deal with this either.

"Eh?! W-what he means is you're usually a little more...lively than this," she said, blundering through every word. Mythra laughed robotically, each "ha" an affront to the concept of amusement.

"Pyra, my dear sister, I've left all that behind now. I let all those negative emotions out. There's no anger or hatred in me any more..."

"Or much of anything," Pandoria muttered.

"My heart is tranquility itself," Mythra concluded.

Rex and Pyra simultaneously turned away from Mythra, huddling together.

"We gotta fix this," Rex hissed, "She's really freaking me out."

"I know, but...what can we do?"

"We gotta do something to piss her off. Something that'll really get on her nerves." Pyra looked at Rex with concern.

"I don't want you risking your life like that. Besides, I can't think of anything  _we_ could do to upset her that mu-" Pyra's words were interrupted by the door opening once again, this time with considerably more speed. Two sets of footsteps could be heard, although one set clearly had four legs involved. The last members of the party, Nia and Dromarch, had finally arrived. Nia was dressed in her yellow jumpsuit, normally reserved for her Driver form, although her Blade schimitar was strapped to her back. Dromarch looked roughly the same, since there wasn't much he could do about his fashion sense.

"Good afternoon, everyone. A pleasure to see you all again," Dromarch greeted, giving a small bow of his head.

"Sorry we're late, guys. Gettin' up to Gormott was bloody  _murder_ , I swe-" Nia cut herself off as she noticed Mythra's disturbing smile.

"Oi, what's wrong with 'er? She's givin' me the creeps." Pyra scooted over to Nia and hurriedly whispered an explanation in her ear. It twitched rapidily as she tried to hold in a guffaw at Mythra's expense.

"You're kiddin' me. What is she, a toddler?" Nia said incredulously. Pyra waved her hands downwards, trying to signal to Nia that this was a  _very bad idea_ , but was stopped by Rex grabbing one of her arms.

He shook his head at her for a moment before mouthing " _trust me."_ Pyra gave him a solemn nod in response. Nia had by this point adopted an intensely punchable smirk as she walked closer to Mythra. Her smile remained fixed, although one eye briefly twitched as Nia approached.

"I mean, really, who gets this upset over a silly little game? What's next, is she gonna 'ave a tantrum 'cause Pyra made her eat her veggies?"

"Um...yes, actually," Pyra quietly interjected.

"Do Blades even need to eat healthily?" Rex asked under his breath.

"Vegetables have a lot of high-quality ether in them."

Nia prodded Mythra in the shoulder. Her eye twitched again, longer, and more rapidily. Her smile wavered for a moment before returning to its full, joyless glory.

"I heard you're right crap at that game, too. I bet even I'd do better than you, and I've never even played the bloody thing before." She poked Mythra's shoulder a few more times, aiming for a new spot with each poke. Mythra remained motionless, save for a slowly clenching fist.

"Go on, let's 'ave a game. Bet I'll kick yer arse, y'know. I reckon if we give her another try even  _Pyra_ 'll beat ya. C'mon, let's go, right 'ere, right now," Nia said, revelling in her own obnoxiousness. Mythra's smile collapsed into the scowl of a woman who was utterly done with life and catgirls. Her mouth creaked open slowly and shakily.

"SHUT  _UP,_ NIA."

The entire room breathed a sigh of relief. Nia gave Mythra one last jab on the shoulder, prompting a growl from the very angry Aegis.

"There. Much better," she said triumphantly, "What's for dinner, anyway? I'm starvin'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is a disaster and I'm not entirely sure where it is headed anymore. I'm aware that I've been pretty poor with keeping everyone in character, so if you find I've made some glaring characterisation mistake, I encourage you to inform me.


	4. The Limits of Technology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new, improved Poppi falters in the face of adversity. Nia gets on her bullshit.

Many people, those sadly lacking in natural scientific curiosity, would consider it rather rude to invite your friends over for dinner and then promptly stuff your hostly duties deep between the cushions of the sofa of social responsibility so you could hide in your workshop. Ideally, you'd be in the same room as them, at least. Tora could faintly feel the social pressure prodding him in the wing and telling him to pack it in already. A cramped, messy workshop whose floor was half random discarded electronics and half crumpled maid uniforms was no place to be. Not tonight. Tora knew this.

But he would not relent. He could not relent. Not yet. Tora carefully reached towards a small ether generator. A panel on the side had been flipped open, exposing the nigh-incomprehensible interior. He reached his wings inside, grabbing hold of two loose wires, and deftly tied them together. A sharp spark erupted from the exposed ends of the two wires, bathing the room in bright orange light, before settling down to a gentler glow. Tora hummed in approval for a moment, then closed the panel and grabbed hold of the generator.

Hopping off of his chair, he waddled happily towards the corner of the room, where Poppi's currently lifeless body was sprawled against the wall. A flap on the front of her chest had been left open. Tora slid the generator inside and slammed the flap closed, spinning in a little circle afterwards as a self-congratulatory flourish.

The metallic body in front of him shuddered on the spot for a few seconds as ether began to course through Poppi again. Her eyes flicked open and focused on Tora.

"Masterpon finished upgrade?"

"Yep-yep!" Tora waved his wings upwards as he waited for Poppi to stand up, "We go show everyone. They think Tora genius! ...Tora hopes."

Once the re-activated Poppi had shakily staggered to her feet, they emerged from the depthes of Tora's workshop into the living room. Most of the group was sat at the dinner table, idly conversing, or, in Mythra's case, being irritated relentlessly by Nia. The cackling catgirl was onto her third nose-boop of the past hour. Mythra's nose burned as red as her fury.

Pyra remained at the kitchen, cooking the final few ingredients of the upcoming meal. Rex had been relegated to plating the unreasonable amount of food sprawled across every available surface. The glory years he had spent as Pyra's indispensable cooking companion, her trusted equal, were long gone. Now he was her serving staff, nestled far away from any duties that involved actual cooking.

Under happier, less time-sensitive circumstances, Pyra would've been glad to spend four hours bringing Rex's cooking knowledge up from "let's fry this random Krabble I fished up by accident" to reasonable competence. Cooking was more fun with him around, despite the slowness.

She had decided this was a fun bonding experience for another day, right around when Zeke and Pandoria had started banging their knives and forks on the table and chanting "where's our food! where's our food!" for half an hour. Thus, Rex had been expelled from Pyra's Culinary School in the name of speed, and all ambassadors of the nation of Tantal had had their cutlery confiscated until dinner time.

Tora marched proudy into the center of the room, Poppi shuffling into place just behind him.

"Friends!" he called out, trying to grab any attention that would fly his way, "Tora made big upgrade to Poppi! Very impressive, very practical! Listen, listen!"

Nia temporarily halted her Mythra-aggravation session to look Poppi up and down. She shrugged cluelessly.

"She doesn't  _look_ upgraded."

"Upgrade more...internal. Tora inspired when see Poppi come recharge from watching Mythra play Tiger! Tiger! very bad."

"I'll throw you out the damn window," Mythra said, offering her most polite rebuttal.

"M-Mythra no longer part of story! Lack of skill not relevant now!" Tora protested, eyeing up which window would be the safest to be thrown out of, just in case he was allowed to choose. "Anyway! Poppi have to use lot of ether to process judgemental attitude. Real-time analysis of bad gaming performance for flaws and converting into disapproval take a lot of RAM. So Tora program brand new Judgemental Mode for Poppi! Now Poppi can give silent or verbal disdain at 400% less power cost! Hours of shaking head, very efficient!"

The party sat in quiet contemplation of this extremely unnecessary upgrade for a few seconds. Poppi glanced towards her Driver and sighed, slowly shaking her head. Tora beamed in triumph.

"See! See! Poppi normally not able to be disappointed so quickly without big power drain! Now, sky is limit! No misstep unjudged!"

Poppi nodded in agreement.

"Masterpon lack social grace to stay with friends, but make big improvement to Poppi's capabilities. Poppi can talk with Zeke without needing nap afterwards."

"Oi! I resent that! As if The Zekenator's company is anything but a delight!" Zeke pouted, folding his arms and hunching forward. Tora's eyes lit up with inspiration.

"Oh, this good stress test! Zeke, uh..." he paused, searching for a suitably dire topic to set Zeke off on. "Ah! Zeke, tell Poppi about journey to Torigoth! Spare no detail!" The entire room reflexively cringed at the grandstanding Tora had just gleefully unleashed. Zeke was now officially Dinner Entertainment, even if it meant he'd be performing with his face stuffed.

"Hmph. If you insist," he said, sitting up straight to let his voice carry his exciting tale further across the room. "Our story begins at 7am sharp. We were due to catch an early flight. Merely an hour until departure, I believe. But Pandy, she was  _asleep!_ I'd been up since 6am packing, of course, dutiful husband that I am-"

"Not married yet, just so we're clear," Pandoria said, tripping his story's momentum over within seconds of it beginning.

"Gravitas, Pandy, the title lends  _gravitas._ Anyway. With such little time until the ship would depart, and Pandy firmly held within slumber's grasp, I did what any reasonable man would do: I rolled her up in the bedsheets and simply bolted out of the inn, carrying her like a Blade burrito. Job done, you might think, another bold tactical move from the Zekenator to visit all his companions on time. Well, here's where the tale takes a turn for the tragic..."

Poppi stared stoically at Zeke. A series of whirrs and clicks emanated from her head, though they were pretty much inaudible thanks to Zeke's booming narration. Her lips drooped into a faint frown. Unperturbed by his audience's visible distaste, Zeke forged onwards into brave new worlds of nonsense.

"Despite my best efforts, we missed the ship! You see, Pandy woke up around halfway through my dash to the harbor, and, wouldn't you know it, the poor dear was hungry-"

"Hold it, hold it," Nia said, lifting a hand up towards Zeke's face, "Weren't you stayin' at an inn? Shellhead, did you  _steal_ the bedsheets?"

"I didn't  _steal_ them, I...well. Borrowed them without asking. It was an emergency! I could hardly carry her out uncovered, she wasn't decent!"

Poppi's frown intensified, her eyes narrowing as she analyzed Zeke's theatrics and accidental confessions to minor criminal offenses. She shuffled on the spot, as if to make sure that her legs still functioned. Literal alarm bells rang in her head. They were getting a little stiffer than normal.

"Pajamas are decent!" Pandoria protested.

"You're a future princess, Pandy! You'll need to carry yourself with my dignity and grace! Or at least wear fancier pajamas!"

"If I'm not mistaken, that sounds rather like a proposal, Zeke," Morag interjected with a quirked eyebrow, joining the growing contingent of the audience eager to derail Zeke's story. Zeke laughed dismissively.

"Oh, come now, Morag, my proposal's going to have a bit more flair than  _that._ I assure you, the concept of marriage will never be the same again once Zeke Von Genbu's through with it!"

"A shame that you plan to ruin it for the rest of us."

"I was rather looking forward to it, as well," Brighid said flatly.

"Apologies, Brighid. Zeke's made it quite impossible."

"Hmph! You'll see. You'd best all be taking notes on how a  _master_ handles things. You especially, chum," he said, finger suddenly snapping towards Rex's direction. His unfortunate new target looked up from the plate of Cloud Sea Crab Sticks he was carefully arranging, bemused and only half-listening to Zeke's endless saga.

"...I'm good," he replied, as diplomatically as he could manage, immediately dropping his head back down and keeping his eyes firmly trained on the All Important Crab Sticks.

"Traitor. Now, where was I...Ah, yes! Poor Pandy was  _ravenous_ , and as usual, it was up to me to sate her hunger, so, of course, I head to a local eatery to fetch her some food. But, lo, a trial stands before the mighty Zekenator: a  _queue._ Ten men deep, each one moving at the lumbering pace of a Titan itself! It took me nearly thirty minutes just to reach the front of the line..."

Poppi's neck creaked and groaned as she forced it towards Tora.

"M-masterpon...Poppi...cannot take it...switching to...low-power mode..." she spluttered, before finally caving in. Her eyes dimmed and she slumped awkwardly forward, yet still remained standing, frozen in place. The effect was rather like someone had carved a sculpture of a girl attempting to touch her toes. Tora gawked at her still form, trying to process the trauma of seeing his hard work stumbling directly into absolute failure.

"M-MEH MEH MEH!? Z-Zeke drain Poppi's battery after only three minutes of talking!?"

"Unbelievable..." muttered Zeke, leaning across the table to get a better look at Poppi.

"Is  _very_ unbelievable! Poppi should have lasted at least one hour from full-power Zeke!"

"No, no, I mean that she had the cheek to shut down before I got to the  _good_ part," Zeke huffed, glaring at his tiny metallic victim. Tora defensively hopped in front of Poppi and began pushing her back towards the safety of his workshop and its ample supply of emergency batteries. The first victim of Zeke's latest performance was escorted from the crime scene.

"What's the good part? The part where you ate too much burger in one go and had to run for the bathroom? And then 'cause of that we were late and had to get the next flight, but  _then_ you accidentally used our tickets to blow your nose, so we had to get the ship after  _that,_ and  _then_ -"

"Now, Pandy, you know that's not how we do things. I did not 'eat too much,' I fell victim to gluttony's siren call and paid the ultimate price. Let's do this  _properly."_

"I kinda like Pandoria's version better. Seems more accurate," Mythra said, thankful that this ordeal had distracted Nia from tormenting her or her nose.

"Yeah, it really captures how dumb you can be, Shellhead. She's got a knack for it," Nia said, a plan to irritate Mythra some more being carefully assembled in the back of her mind.

"Perhaps 'dumb' is too strong a term," Morag chimed in, feeling a little sorry for Zeke, yet quietly enjoying the verbal Chain Attack he was enduring, "Though it must be said, your endeavours are frequently...ill-advised."

"You have always been rather accident-prone," Brighid added, dutifully backing up her Driver.

Zeke wimpered, then snuck Dromarch a glance. The tiger was watching events unfold with a small smile of amusement.

"Your comic timing continues to impress, Master Zeke. Even your anecdotes are a delight. Truly remarkable," he said, with an infuriatingly sincere calmness that somehow annoyed Zeke more than if he had been intentionally insulting. His shoulders slumped.

"Pandy," he whispered in defeat, "You wouldn't happen to have my Crying Eyepatch, would you?"

After briefly rummaging around in her clothes, Pandoria eventually produced the sacred artifact and dangled it in front of Zeke's face.

"Here. Cleaned it up since last time and everything," she said, pushing the eyepatch into Zeke's hand. Turning away from the group and hunching over, to ensure that no being, whether they mortal man or immortal Blade, would catch a glimpse of the Eye of Weepy Justice, Zeke quickly unfastened his normal eyepatch, smoothly replacing it with the Crypatch.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said shakily, wobbling unsteadily to his feet and disappearing out of the room. A few seconds later, the party could hear the gentle creak of the door and the tender sobs of a man on the edge.

"What the hell's a Cryin' Eyepatch?" Nia asked the moment he was out of earshot.

"His eyepatch for when he's crying," Pandoria replied bluntly, scooping up his discarded patch and stuffing it under her hat.

"...why's he  _got_ an eyepatch for cryin', though?"

"So his regular eyepatch doesn't get wet," she stated with the slow, clear cadence of a woman who is patiently explaining to a small child why an orange is coloured orange. Nia grunted in frustration.

"But then, why doesn't he just take the bloody thing  _off?_ We all know his other eye's perfectly fine."

"He doesn't like to take the eyepatch off," Pandoria said, her expression unflinchingly serious. There was a finality in the statement that suggested to Nia that regardless of how far she pressed this topic, Pandoria's answers would forever dance around the underlying issue of why Zeke has to be Like This. The matter was quietly dropped down a crack in the floorboards, never to be heard from again.

A large shadow loomed over the table, with two circles sprouting from the ends of its limbs. To its left, a considerably smaller shadow followed suit with its own discs. Pyra beamed at what remained of the party as she set her first two plates, placing them both in one smooth movement. Rex followed suit, his plates landing clumsily, and their contents tipping a little to the side. He scooted back to the kitchen to retrieve his next batch, pre-emptively deciding to give all soups or gravy-heavy dishes a wide berth to avoid making a mess.

"Okay, everyone, dinner's rea...dy..." Pyra trailed off, suddenly registering the very empty, very quiet seat where Zeke was supposed to be. Or the somewhat more subtle absence of Tora and Poppi. It took a special kind of person to overshadow Tora, a Nopon who heard the word "subtlety" and assumed Pyra kept it on her shelf next to the Jenerossi Tea. Zeke was, in many regards, a special kind of person.

"Um...where did Zeke go?" she asked, feeling pretty confident that Tora was a short walk and a traumatic encounter with his Maid Fascinations away, and therefore didn't need a search party mobilizing.

"I believe he's stepped outside for some privacy. He is...crying," Morag said.

"Oh...that's a shame. I hope he isn't too upset." Pyra tapped her chin in thought for a moment. "Did he take his eyepatch off first? It'll get soggy otherwise."

"See, Nia? Pyra gets it," Pandoria said, folding her arms and nodding smugly.

"Gets what?" Pyra asked, not sure what roaring debate she'd just stuck her foot into.

"Shellhead's got a spare eyepatch for cryin'," Nia explained, rubbing her temples to calm her newest Zeke-induced headache, "Bloody stupid if you ask me."

"...But that eyepatch is going to get soggy, too. Why doesn't he just take both eyepatches off?"

"See, Pandoria? Pyra gets it," Nia said, her well-honed smugness overpowering Pandoria's in an instant.

"My prince doesn't like to take his eyepatch off," Pandoria repeated solemly, as though she were stating a fundamental truth of the universe.

"But it would make more sense to-" Pyra began, her futile appeals to reasonable, sensible conduct faltering as Nia gave her a Look. The resigned dullness in her eyes told Pyra more than words ever could. She sighed.

"If...if that's what he likes, I guess. Could you go get him, though, Pandoria? I don't want his Embercakes to get cold."

"Sure, sure," Pandoria said, hopping out of her chair and striding towards the doorway. "I won't be long. I've got a pretty good Prince-tracker." She pointed at her Core Crystal. Or, more specficially, where part of her Core Crystal  _should_ be.

"...I'm not sure I get it, "Pyra said, tilting her head.

"My Prince has the other half of my Core Crystal, remember? I just do this..." Pandoria flicked her own Core Crystal with a  _ping_ , and winced slightly before grinning as though this was somehow a genius power move. "Then I listen for him complaining! It's kinda like a radar. I'll find him in no time!"

She skipped out of the room. Every few steps, another  _ping_ followed by an "ow!" could be heard, each one gradually growing more distant.

"You know, we could've done that with Rex when we shared a Core Crystal with him," Mythra said, her mind skimming across all the lost oppourtunities.

"Mythra, that would hurt him!" Pyra said reproachfully.

"Mythra, that would hurt me!" Rex said defensively. bringing the two safest plates he could spot over to the table.

"Not really hearing an argument here, guys," Mythra said, hunching forward in her chair to examine the table's new arrivals. Her food wasn't here yet. Her interest faded and she leaned backwards, staring at the ceiling.

"W-well, I don't  _want_ to hurt him."

"We're coming at this from pretty different angles, Pyra."

"I must say, it's rather poor form for a Blade to wish harm on her Driver," Brighid said, giving Mythra what passed for a disapproving look from her.

"Whatever. I'm barely even his Blade anymore. It's not like we do much fighting."

"Same 'ere," Nia added. "A lot less fightin' for me nowadays, unless I really need to. I do a lot more healin' lately."

"Oh, yeah, I've been meaning to ask," Rex said, coming back over with the next two Rex-proof plates, "what've you been up to, anyway? You said something about getting up to Gormott. I thought you guys'd be living here."

"Well, Elysium's pretty big. Lotta empty fields. Not many people livin' there yet, either. Towns're still bein' built up and all. Mostly people comin' in from Tantal, I've found. And refugees from Indol. Makes sense, since they lost their Titan. And, well, a whole new land no-one's lived in before means a lotta monsters, and a lotta monsters while everyone's still tryin' to build things up means people gettin' hurt. Means you've got a lot to do, if you're a healin' Blade. So I go about all the towns, help out a bit, come back 'ere every now and then. Works out pretty alright, I'd say."

"So, you're a travelling healer of sorts? Rather admirable," Morag said, resting her chin on her hand.

"Mostly, mostly. We help fight if we gotta."

"You're using your Blade powers, right? How come you're not...well, in your Blade form? It's not a problem for you, is it?" Rex asked with concern, wondering if she'd regressed to hiding her nature again. Nia blinked in confusion for a moment before realizing what he'd meant.

"Huh? Oh, that. Rex, listen. I told you I wasn't livin' in fear anymore, and I meant that. But, well..." she trailed off in reluctance. Hiding the truth was something she'd sworn off of rather dramatically, but that didn't mean revealing it couldn't still be painful. She glanced down at Dromarch, who nodded reassuringly. She smiled gratefully before continuing.

"The truth is...that Blade outfit's bloody cold."

"Oh," Rex said blandly, wondering if he could demand a refund on his worry.

"I dunno how you lot go about in those clothes. Feels like my legs're gonna freeze, I swear" she continued, gesturing in Pyra and Mythra's general directions. After a moment of consideration, she brought her other arm into the fun, adding an extra gesture towards Brighid, for the sake of thoroughness.

"I don't really...feel the cold," Pyra said, setting another two plates.

"We are Fire Blades, Nia. Our body temperatures are naturally quite high," Brighid explained. "Besides...I rather like this dress," she added reproachfully.

"As do I," Morag said with the level confidence of someone who knows what she's implying, but also knows no-one in the room will want to point it out.

"Right, right," Nia said, not willing to rise to Morag's unspoken gauntlet. She set her sights on easier prey instead.

"What about you, Rex? How d'you like Pyra's outfit?" she asked, lips contorting into the toothy smirk of a true master of irritation. Rex laughed nervously in response, hoping this would be accepted as an answer.

The intense stares he was receiving from everyone else suggested that he'd need to try some words. The smugness on Nia's face was locked firmly in place. Mythra squinted at him, ready to pounce if he did something Wrong, like an easily aggravated teacher trying to decide if a student's slightly unbuttoned shirt was a rules violation or not. Dromarch had a degree of sympathy in his eyes. Not that he seemed willing to step in and rescue Rex. Morag and Brighid's faces remained intimidatingly blank. A quick glance to the side revealed that Pyra was looking at him expectantly.

A light sprinkling of red crept onto his face as he felt around for a suitable answer. One that was truthful, yet concealed the finer details. She...should know, right? She must  _know,_ she puts it on nearly every day. There's no way she'd gone five hundred years without  _knowing._

Despite his firm belief that she  _must know_ , Rex still did not want to vocalize what it is that she must  _know._ Eventually, he decided the simplest answer was probably the best.

"It's...nice," he said carefully. This elicited a snort from Camp Nia and a slight easing of the squint from Fortress Mythra.

"Oh, thank you, Rex!" Pyra chirped, quickly smiling at him before carrying on with the infinite stack of plates. Free space was becoming an increasingly sought after commodity on the table. At Pyra's current pace, her and Rex would have to find a new, larger table that all the plates could live on in peace. An Elysium made of the finest mahogany. Rex's tensed shoulders sagged as he relaxed.

"Hang on, hang on," Nia said, eager to trample over his brief victory, "That doesn't tell me much.  _What_ d'you like about it? Go on, tell us."

The red on Rex's face enjoyed a small upgrade, darkening and spreading further across his cheeks.

"W-Well, it...um..." Rex's eyes darted around the room searchingly. What he needed right now was an  _interruption_. Preferably loud and impossible to ignore, no matter how much its audience may desire.

The front door swung open and smashed into the wall, chipping a small chunk of wood off in the process. Rex sighed in relief. A saviour had arrived, clad in an unhealthy number of belts. He plodded into the room, his Blade following just behind him.

"I... _have RETURNED,"_ Zeke helpfully announced, jutting his hips out to one side and clamping his hands firmly on either side of them, a look of triumph upon his face. Pandoria slid into an identical pose, albeit with a goofy grin on her face instead. A small, slightly damp towel was clasped in her right hand. They held the pose for a solid fifteen seconds, basking in the thunderous silence of their enraptured onlookers.

Pyra set her final two plates on the very edges of the table. She looked up and gave the two of them a wave.

"Are you feeling better, Zeke? I heard you'd gotten upset," she asked.

"Hah! Never better. The Zekenator might falter in a moment of weakness, but he always bounces back before too long! Sorrow's cold hand will never keep an iron grip on my heart!"

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling okay. Dinner's ready, so you can sit down now," she said, blissfully ignoring the intense drama Zeke had tried to pack into "yeah, I feel better now." It was something of a unique gift amongst the group that Pyra could simply let it pass without comment. She assumed he was just having fun and didn't want to spoil it. Zeke grinned in ravenous delight, eye darting from plate to plate to decide which one to hog first. Eventually, his choice was made. The Embercakes whispered to him, sang songs of spicy temptation. He plopped down into his chair, Pandoria taking the seat next to him.

"Ah, excellent! The feast begins, chaps! Let us-hang about. We're missing two. Tora and Poppi aren't back yet. She'll never hear the end of my story." A brief rustle from the workshop indicated that Tora was willing to suspend all Critical Poppi Maintenance provided he could smell enough food. A few sparks and clangs rang out, replaced by the familiar sounds of Poppi's boot-up sequence. Moments later, the two waddled out of the workshop.

Poppi's gait bordered on a "waddle" at the best of times, given the nature of her legs. Thanks to Tora's half-finished battery-charging job and her generally tiring day so far, her legs had long abandoned walking and had settled for a reliable, power-saving shuffle instead. Tora tapped her on the shoulder and pulled her in closer.

"Remember plan, Poppi. No activating Judgemental Mode, ignore Zeke if he talk to you. Food will give you ether, make you feel better. No more shutdown, Tora promise," he whispered with as much seriousness as a Nopon could muster.

"Understood, Masterpon. Poppi hungry, can focus on eating instead of Zeke."

Poppi clambered onto a chair, with Tora hopping next to her. He sniffed the complex mix of aromas with delight.

"Meh-meh! Food smell good, Pyra! Tora ready to stuff tummy!" She gave a short laugh in response.

"Thank you, Tora," she said, before taking her own seat alongside Rex. She clapped her hands together, an eager smile on her face. "Okay, everyone, dig in! I made plenty for everyone, so feel free to take whatever you want!"

The second Pyra's mouth closed, a trenchcoat-clad arm shot out in front of her, swiping up an entire plate of Embercakes before anyone else could even register they were an option. Thunderbolt Zeke lived up to his reputation. Especially when he was hungry.

"Nice. Great. Not like I wanted to eat those or anything," Mythra snapped, glaring at Zeke. An Embercake was already half-way up to his mouth.

"Sorry, Aegis, but the Zekenator waits for no one. Not when Embercakes are on the line." Pausing mid-sentence, Zeke tossed the entire cake into his mouth at once.

"Now, when I've had my fill, I'd be happy to share what's left with you," he continued, his speech garbled and semi-coherent as crumbs sprayed lightly down his chest. "But until then, I'm afraid I-"

Zeke's grandoise excuse for hogging the Embercakes died in his throat, replaced by a small gasp of pain. Pyra frowned apologetically.

"Oh, um...I should have warned everyone. The Embercakes are quite spicy."

"I believe Embercakes are famous for their spiciness. Master Zeke, in particuar, should have been awareof their reputation," Dromarch said.

"Well, yes, but...I made them a little spicier than normal. I thought it would help bring out the flavour."

"And Shellhead's put the whole thing in his mouth?" Nia asked, cackling at Zeke's suffering.

"It...seems like it, yes," Pyra said, fairly certain this was her fault, but not entirely sure how.

Strangled groans braved the climb out of Zeke's blocked throat, flopping sadly out of his mouth. Each bite he took spread a new wave of intense spice across his tongue, bringing him a little closer to death by spontaneous combustion. Slowly, agonizingly, he managed to swallow the volcanic pastery. Another Thunderbolt-quality hand zapped towards the nearest glass of water, which he drank by tossing the contents down his throat in one motion. Tears streamed from his reddened eye.

"Pandy," he said between gasps for air, "I fear I may need the Crying Eyepatch again."

"You sure? It's still pretty wet."

"These are dire times, Pandy. Hand me the eyepatch."

Wordlessly, she gave the eyepatch one last wipe with the towel, then tossed it over to Zeke. Once again, Zeke swivelled away to make the switch, then swung back round to face his worthy opponent.

"Much better," he said, scooping up another cake and taking a confident, yet noticably smaller bite out of it. He winced, yet nodded in appreciation.

"Hm. Delicious, Pyra, I must say. Some of the best Embercakes I've ever had." Tears dribbled out from underneath his Crying Eyepatch. Unsure what to do with her guilty feelings, Pyra temporarily tucked them into a small box to agonize over later.

"Thank...you?" She glanced around the table. Nobody else had touched their food, too entranced by Zeke's near-death experience to even begin.

"You, um...You can all start, now. Zeke took the only spicy food, I promise." Various hands stretched around the table, zeroing in on the dishes that caught their attention. Pyra quietly grabbed hold of her salad. She hoped her cooking wasn't going to injure anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely confident in the quality of this chapter, so sorry if it's kind of weak. A lot of the dialogue might seem kind of awkward because this is the first time I've tried to write a scene with this many characters in it, too. I'll try to get a more even spread of the dialogue between everyone in the next chapter.


	5. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner is eaten. Mythra faces a bold new challenge.

Approximately five minutes into dinner, it occured to Pyra, far too late, that arranging a buffet meal for a group that contained both Zeke and Mythra was rather like staging an eating contest between a Volff and a small child. Not only was the winner readily apparant, the loser was probably coming away with injuries to more than just their pride. Set meals on set plates would have been safer. Letting everyone pick their own meal had lead to chaos.

The Great Embercake War had claimed many lives. For each cake that fell down Zeke's perpetually bellowing mouth, Mythra would wrestle one for herself, smashing it against her gritted teeth and angrily asking Pyra why  _she_ had to be the one with the heat resistance, as the fragments lucky enough to escape skydived onto her plate. Pyra couldn't tell if Mythra even wanted to eat the Embercakes, or if she was putting herself through spicy hell purely to spite Zeke.

Collateral damage was inevitable in any war, of course. The machinations of fate toyed cruelly with Pyra's heart, bringing misfortune upon the one she loved the most. When Rex had slid his hand stealthily towards the plate to try one for himself, Mythra had silently intercepted, gripping his wrist until Pyra had heard a faint crack. He had spent the last few minutes rubbing it and whining.

Even Zeke, the Tyrant of Tanalese Treats himself, instigator of the entire conflict, had fallen victim to his own madness. Despite his spicelust, just enough sense remained in his frothing brain to  _not_ try and physically intercept Morag when she asked for a cake. Sense had decided to call it a halfday after sliding that gem his way, leaving him to fumble his way out of the situation on pure Zekenator Instinct. Zeke's solution had been to drag the plate away from her. Ironically, this was actually a terrible strategic move on Zeke's part, as moving the plate away from Morag merely ceded ground to the hated Mythra instead.

In response to this, Morag had quietly gotten out of her chair and loomed behind Zeke with the well-honed killing intent that marked her as Mor Ardain's finest, grabbed his eyepatch, pulled it as far as the string would allow, and then let it go, causing it to snap onto his face at fatal speed. The Guardian of the Embercakes slain, she took two for herself and Brighid and strode triumphantly back to her seat. The impact of the patch had been so great that Zeke had almost needed to actually wear an eyepatch for its intended purpose. Pandoria had dutifully started guffawing obnoxiously at Zeke the second patch touched face.

With every passing second, the carnage only continued. Sorrow filled Pyra's heart to the brim, and Regret had set it on a wobbly table and started jumping up and down to try and make it spill. She had to make things right. With newfound resolve, Pyra got out of her seat, leaned over the table, and lightly knocked the wooden surface a couple of times. This was the closest she could come to a thundering, attention-grabbing slam.

"C-could everyone pay attention for a moment?" she asked with a moderate amount of authority in her voice. The party all looked her way. Zeke looked with half a cake dangling out of his mouth. Pyra accepted this, on the basis that he'd find it harder to interrupt her.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she began shakily, "But I don't think we can carry on like this. Zeke, Mythra, you're not allowed any more Embercakes. Everyone else, you can have some if you want." A muffled honk of protest leapt from Zeke's throat and hit its head on the Embercake roadblocking his mouth.

"You can't do that! I'm your sister! Sisters don't ban each other from eating!" Mythra shouted, defensively clutching her last remaining cake.

"They oughta teach each other some table manners, though. You've been eatin' like a bloody child this whole time. It's puttin' me off my food" Nia said. She picked up a stray napkin and pinched it between her fingers, leaning over to try and dab at one of the more outrageously large stains on Mythra's chin. Mythra batted her arm away and sullenly wiped her face under her own power.

"Sisters look out for each other, Mythra. I'm stopping you...for your own good."

"F-fine then! Like I care! I'll just eat some..." Mythra's sentence jerked to a halt and stared at its shoes for a while as she scanned the table for a suitable substitute to be huffy over. Her eyes lit up as she found  _The One._ She tossed the now-irrelevant Embercake in Zeke's general direction. It landed on his trouser leg with a wet squelch. Ignoring his second incoherent yelp, Mythra leaned across and scooped up a handful of Cloud Sea Crab Sticks. She jammed one into her mouth, making indistinct hums of joy as she chewed it.

"Pyra..." she said in a wobbly voice, "These...these are my  _favourite._ You're the best sister anyone could ask for _."_

Pyra gave her a small look of surprise. Mythra and "affectionate" weren't  _strangers,_ but if they passed each other in the street they'd only say hello and maybe comment on the weather. It could still take Pyra off guard, even though she knew better than most that Mythra could work her way up to it now and then.

"Well, the crab sticks are mostly for you. Actually..." she said, gesturing towards the stomach-melting number of plates spread across the table, "I tried to make everyone's favourites. The Embercakes  _were_ for Zeke, but...you're supposed to share them, too. I wanted everyone to try each other's favourite foods. I thought it would be nice."

The corners of Zeke's mouth did their best to squeeze around the Embercake still dangling freely between his teeth, trying to contort into a guilty grimace. It dawned on him that he'd somewhat spoilt Pyra's rather nice gesture. This did not stop him from continuing to slowly drag the cake further into his mouth, but he seasoned the cake with a sprinkle of regret.

"An interesting bonding exercise, Pyra. I had noticed the plate of Quotelettas, but I took it as a happy coincidence that a personal favourite of mine had featured in the menu. To think that you've memorized all our preferences, though. Rather impressive," Morag said, smiling in approval.

"I  _did_ have to cook for you all quite often when we travelled together. I wrote down what everyone likes, actually," Pyra said, blushing slightly at the compliment.

"I must say, you've rather outdone yourself with the quality of the food, Pyra. Your skills were always formiddable, but you've improved by quite the margin since we last met," Brighid said, scraping some Quotelettas of her own onto her plate.

"Tora agree! Tasty Sausage  _and_ Juicy Samod! So much yummy food, Tora explode and go to heaven! ...Except then Tora can't eat Pyra's food, so more like hell than heaven."

Poppi slurped up her glass of Fizz Juice through a straw and nodded in agreement with her Driver. A small amount of juice spilt onto her chin. It was a price worth paying to show her appreciation.

"Pyra's been practicing every day, you know. She works really hard at it, too. She's gotten pretty amazing," Rex said, his voice warm and full of pride over his partner's skill. Pyra's blush took a bold, confident step over the rest of her face. Her hand reached clumsily towards her right, trying to find Rex's.

"Thank you, Rex, that...that really means a lot to me," she said quietly, clasping his hand. Rex returned the grip. His face rapidily ran down the aisle of available shades of red, trying to match the deepness of her blush.

There was a brief pause. The group collectively understood they were being forced to witness a Moment, and interrupting a Moment was just poor ettiquette. Pandoria resisted the urge to say "awww." Mythra resisted the urge to say "urgh." Morag raised an eyebrow, quietly noting their progress since she'd last seen them. Neither of them seemed to be passing out from embarassment anymore. Impressive.

"Oi, lovebirds. Rex likes Pan-Fried Tartari, right? How come there's more of that than any of the other stuff?" Nia said, gleefully shattering the romantic ambience. Pyra jolted in her seat from the shock at being pulled out of the Cuddle Dimension and back into cold reality.

"The contents of that plate do seem to... _tower_ over the other dishes," Dromarch agreed.

"Huh. You're right," Rex said, comparing the Tartari plate to the still-impressive but not overflowing plate of Fried Octomayo next to it.

"I've got way more than everyone else. Not that I'm complainin'," he added, awkwardly balancing his plate next to the pile and attempting to scrape a couple on using only one hand. Partially for the challenge, mostly because he rather liked what his other hand was occupied with.

"That's...because...well, I..." Pyra mumbled, reaching around for a decent excuse. Her actual reason was pretty simple, but she wanted to stave off the inevitable doubling down of the teasing.

"Oh! Oh! I know!" Pandoria squeaked, raising an arm and hopping up and down in her chair. "You made all those extras so Rex can share with everyone and still have  _way_ more food than the rest of us! You're totally playing favourites, aren't you?"

"R-Rex is a big eater, that's all..." Pyra murmured, hoping nobody would cross-reference this claim with the fact that Rex was still a couple of inches shorter than her despite putting a cushion on his seat.

"He's  _way_ too small to eat all that," Pandoria said, effortlessly poking her finger through the hole in Pyra's logic.

"Must be nice, dating the chef, eh chum? You get some pretty good perks out of it," Zeke said. He blinked meaningfully at Rex. This was, Rex assumed, supposed to be a wink.

"I mean...Pyra's food is  _really_ good, so it's not like I mind eating more of it."

Pyra squeezed his hand a little tighter at the compliment.

"Just think," Zeke mused, spotting a new angle of attack, "When you two get married, you can bake your own wedding cake." He grinned maliciously at his masterstroke. They'd take a moment to register what he'd said, then simultaneously start melting down over it. A perfect two-for-one attack. Nia quietly went "ooooh" in approval at Zeke's manouveure. As a fellow Irritation Artiste, she knew a good tease when she saw one.

The pair executed a perfectly synchronized double-head-tilt, thoughtful expressions on their faces. Zeke suppressed a scowl at them  _stealing_ his and Pandoria's routine.

"He has a point. If I made it, we'd probably save a lot of money."

"Y'know, we could make it together, if you wanted. I think it'd be nice if we'd both worked on it."

"Oh, that sounds like fun, actually! I'll need to teach you how to bake first, though..."

Zeke gawked in horror at the calm, civil conversation daring to unfold in front of one of his finest moves. A complete deflection.  _Impossible._

"Pandy," he said, tapping her on the shoulder, "Emergency meeting. Now."

"Gotcha," she replied with three mouthfuls of Octomayo doing their best to obscure the response. They swivelled away from the table and huddled conspiratorially together.

"Something's wrong, Pandy. Either the Zekenator is losing his touch, struck down in the prime of his youth, or they're  _adapting._ We need to devise  _new methods._ " Zeke said in a stage whisper.

"We can still hear you, idiot," Mythra said, picking a piece of crab out of her teeth.

"Blast. It appears Aegises have remarkable hearing."

"I'm afraid I can hear you as well, Zeke," Morag interjected.

"The highly-trained ears of Mor Ardain's Special Inquisitor, no doubt."

"Uh, Zeke? It's not like you're the first person to mention it to us, y'know?" Rex called out to him. Pyra nodded.

"You've met Rex's Aunt Corrine, haven't you? She...asks about it. A lot. She started talking about marriage the first time I met her, actually," Pyra said, looking down in embarassment at the memory. Mythra snorted.

"Yup. I had to spend the rest of the day listening to her freak out about it. 'Mythra, what am I supposed to do? Mythra, do you think he wants to as well?' It was exhausting."

"S-she surprised me! It was a little...overwhelming. The first time."

"Now she asks us about it every other week. We're just kind of used to it," Rex shrugged. Zeke rested his chin in his hands.

"I see, I see. Thanks to Corrine's intervention, they've built up an immunity...Pandy!"

A short "hmrfh?" of acknowledgement was his only reply.

"As I suspected, we've hit a roadblock. We must retreat and compose a new plan. Brainstorm some ideas, and we'll reconvene with a strategy meeting later."

Pandoria swallowed her food before attempting a proper response.

"Do I have to stop eating?"

"Not at all."

"Your wish is my command, My Prince," she said. The Dried Sunfish she was holding in her hand slapped against her forehead as she gave him a semi-sarcastic salute.

Intense looks of concentration spread across both their faces, which, combined with their stuffed faces, made them look like they were constantly trying to figure out what, exactly, they were eating. No sounds came from them other than an occassional "mmm" whose tone flipped between contemplative and "oh, wow, this food's good."

As it turns out, removing Zeke and Pandoria from a conversation tends to have something of a calming effect. Dinner passed in relative peace, save for the occassional jab from Nia to whoever she thought it would be funniest to jab. This was usually Mythra.

The cool, refreshing and, crucially, odorless nighttime air of Torigoth had come as something of a relief to Mythra as soon as she'd stepped outside. Pyra's cooking tasted good. Pyra's cooking often smelt good. The sheer volume of food and the entire cookbook's worth of receipes she'd prepared for one meal had effectively caused a bar-room brawl between the dozens of aromas, a blur of seasonings and spices. There was a point when trying to distinguish between ten different smells at once became exhausting and made your nostrils try and seal themselves shut.

Mythra needed to not smell anything for a moment. Once dinner had ended, she'd quickly excused herself and made her way to the walkway just outside Tora's house. She leaned against the railings, staring out at the houses on the other side of the bridge without really taking in what she was looking at. A sigh of relaxation escaped her lips as she enjoyed the time alone. She felt peaceful. Tranquil.

The door opened behind her.

"Oi, what're you doin', rushin' out like that? You havin' another tantrum or what?"

Mythra's grip on the railing tightened. A brief flash of white light burst out from her hands, slightly melting the metal underneath them.

"I just needed some air," she replied in her best attempt at a level voice.

"The air's not goin' anywhere, y'know. You barely put your fork down before you ran out."

Nia joined Mythra in leaning on the railing, stealing a glance at the Aegis. The iron grip the railing was currently suffering under did not escape her notice.

"What's with you, anyway? You're bloody tense, Mythra. You oughta relax a little."

"I'm  _trying_ to. You're not helping."

"No idea what you mean," Nia said, happily skipping over sixty percent of the pages in the Mythra and Nia history book in the process.

"You  _know_ what I mean! It's like you go out of your way to piss me off or something! Why's it always me, anyway?!" Mythra complained. Her grip on the railing tightened, the fabric of her gloves clearly straining from the force. Nia smirked, sidling up to Mythra.

"I can't help it. You're way too cute when you're mad, I just can't resist windin' ya up."

Mythra whipped round to face Nia, teeth gritted in frustration.

"The hell kind of excuse is that!? Who tries to annoy someone because they're cu-" her rant slammed to a halt as her brain tapped it on the shoulder and gently reminded it of what, exactly, Nia had just told her. She froze in place, eyes vacant. Her full attention was devoted to unpacking that sentence, examining it from every angle to make sure she had  _definetely understood that correctly._

The results of the analysis came in. Nia had really said that.

Mythra shook on the spot, her face going so deeply and thoroughly red that it looked as though someone had sprayed her with a full bottle of ketchup. Her neck immediately creaked downwards at a painful ninety-degree angle, keeping her eyes firmly trained on the humble floor, safe and incapable of flirting.

Her mouth opened. No sound came out. Attempt number two, still nothing. The third brought her comparative success, providing a single distressed squeak. Swallowing seemed like an ideal solution to the problem, might ease her throat up a little. Unfortunately, she had not accounted for any trace of moisture in her throat evaporating from the sheer shock of Nia's claim. She spent a few more seconds impotently opening and closing her mouth.

Nia grinned, wondering if she could slip back into the house and ask Pyra to whip up some popcorn for her to enjoy the show with.

"Ooh, this is good, too. I woulda told you that sooner, if I knew you were gonna get all flustered over it."

"I-I, you...you think...you...me? Cute? You think I'm..." Mythra babbled, smashing her mental dictionary on the table and desperately ripping through the pages for some appropriate words. She landed on the simplest, yet most pertinent.

" _WHAT!?"_

"You heard me, didn't you?"

Mythra begrudgingly acknowledged that she had heard Nia. It was more  _what_ she had heard that was proving difficult. She spent a few seconds composing the shortest, most direct sentence she could think of, to avoid any stumbling blocks.

"You...t-think I'm...cute." Each word tumbled slowly and heavily out of Mythra's mouth before clunking to the ground in front of her, barely audible to Nia.

"Yep."

"You think I'm... _cute,_ " Mythra repeated, saying the word in the same manner that someone prodding a piece of sludge with a stick was "touching" it.

"I do," Nia said patiently.

"You're...being serious right now."

"Totally."

Mythra forced herself to look up at Nia. She got as far as her boots. Close enough.

"W-what am I...supposed to say to that?"

Nia shrugged and stepped a little closer to Mythra. She bent down to her knees to force her face into Mythra's field of vision, flashing her a smile that was simultaneously deeply smug, yet oddly affectionate.

"That's up to you, I suppose. What do  _you_ want to say?" she said, her voice smoothing out, adopting a gentler tone.

"I...don't know," Mythra admitted quietly. Nia rose back up and walked past her.

"I guess I kinda put you on the spot with that. Bad habit of mine. Tell ya what. How 'bout you go think about it, then come back to me? I'm gonna go on a walk," she called back to Mythra, waving as she went.

"R-Right..." Mythra mumbled in response, staring at Nia as she left. The moment she rounded a corner, Mythra zoomed to the nearest wall and hit her head off of it repeatedly, hoping she could smash through the planks and find some composure hidden in there.

Mythra's mind scrambled to make sense of whatever had just occured. Nia had  _definetely_ just flirted with her.  _Nia_ had  _flirted_ with her. She had no idea what to do with this information. Flirting was not something Mythra was on the receiving end of very often. In fact, she wasn't sure if it had ever happened at all.

Consequentially, Mythra had zero idea how to deal with it now.

The red on her face refused to budge. Her breathing was rapid and uneven. Her thoughts mostly comprised of the word "WHAT." She stumbled slowly towards Tora's door.

Nia might have sent her into something of a breakdown, but she had still given Mythra a gift she was all too familiar with: time. Time for her to figure out what her answer even was, time to get the help she needed in this dire situation.

She entered the living room, and saw her two hopes, still sitting at the table, hands clasped tightly together. Her sister, her calm, serene sister who was  _in a relationship already and must know how to handle this_ smiled at her and waved with her free hand, with Rex following suit.

"Feeling better, Myth...ra?" Pyra asked uncertainly, noting that Mythra appeared to have gotten into a fight with a tomato and lost rather badly. Slowly, Mythra shuffled towards them, collapsing into the chair next to Pyra. Her hands wrapped around Pyra's arm, squeezing as tightly as she could.

"P-Pyra..." she said weakly.

"Mythra, are you...okay?"

"It's Nia. Nia's...hitting on me."

Pyra's eyes lit up in delight.

"Oh, Mythra, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you both!" Her hand slid out of Rex's, curling around Mythra's back instead for a congratulatory hug.

"Yeah, congrats! I wasn't expecting it to be Nia, but still..." Rex chimed in. He was too far away to properly join in the hug, and settled for a thumbs-up instead. Mythra tensed in the hug, sighing in despair. They were clearly not going to be the help she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the hellvoid of NYTHRA. I am now being arrested for shipping crimes. The next chapter of this is probably the last one. Please await it with dread.


	6. Mythra's Counterattack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amongst Zeke's nonsense, Mythra makes a resolution.

"Mythra, I'm so  _proud_  of you!" Pyra said. Her iron grip on Mythra had been maintained for a couple of minutes by now, and she refused to relent. Like it or not- and Mythra was currently ticking the "Not" box several hundred times in her mind- she was going to be thoroughly congratulated.

"Pyra."

"Oh, I bet you two will be great together!"

"Pyra, we aren't t-"

"Hey, I just realized," Rex said, prodding Pyra's arm, "doesn't this mean we can go on double dates and stuff?"

Pyra gasped and constricted Mythra a little tighter. There wasn't a lot of room for her to hug Mythra much closer without them starting to physically re-merge, but Pyra was determined to use that limited amount to its fullest.

"You're right! I could make us all packed lunches and we could go on a picnic!"

Mythra closed her eyes and drooped her forehead onto Pyra's shoulder, sighing every inch of breath out of her lungs.

"Pyra. Rex. I'm trying to ask you for he-"

"Hang about, stop  _everything,_ " Zeke boomed, "You can't let Mythra jump the queue, not when Pandy and I haven't had a shot yet! You wouldn't snub us, would you, chum?!"

"They're sisters, Zeke. I think that outranks...'chum'. Mythra gets to go first."

"Besides, you just wanna freeload and get more of Pyra's cooking," Pandoria said, flicking him on the chest.

"Don't act like you don't want more, too, Pandy. I saw you sneak some of that Octomayo into your bag."

"Can you blame me? This stuff's  _good."_

Mythra grumbled in frustration, her voice getting steadily louder.

"Could you two stay out of this? I need some adv-"

"I'm sorry, Zeke. I'm sure you and Pandoria would be good company, but...Rex is right. Mythra comes first," Pyra said with a guilty frown.

"Not in this conversation, I don't," Mythra said at the highest volume possible for something to still count as a "murmur."

"Might I ask...where do Brighid and I fall in this hierarchy of yours?" Morag asked. Pyra froze in place for a moment, giving the matter some very serious internal debate. For a brief instant, Mythra quietly wished they still shared a body, purely so she could force her way into being a part of that internal debate. Mostly by screaming over it.

Then she remembered she could eat all the sweets she wanted now without Pyra complaining about having a stomach ache later, and decided their current situation was for the best.

"Well...I suppose you'd be about even with Zeke and Pandoria? I...I don't really want to rank you, honestly. It seems...rude," Pyra said.

"But not so rude that you won't prioritize Mythra over us," Brighid noted.

"W-well, Mythra's...an exception. I'm sure you'd say Niall would be most important to you, right, Morag?"

"You're quite right," Morag said with a nod, "Although, I'm not certain that dating is very...appropriate for someone his age."

"It's pretty appropriate for  _my_ age, so could you  _please_ hel-"

"Lady Morag, the Emperor is but two years younger than Rex, is he not? It's hardly a stretch to think he may soon consider the option."

"...I'd rather not think about it," Morag murmured.

"Oho! Rather overprotective, aren't we, Special Inquisitor?" Zeke said with the kind of unbearable smile that ends up with considerably less teeth by the time it's finished.

"I am not  _overprotective,_ I am simply...concerned. For his well-being."

"I'm sure he'd be just fine. He seems pretty mature for his age," Pyra said, unaware of the squirming ball of blonde hatred writhing in her arms. There seemed to be a strange, aggressive growling sound in the room, from quite nearby, but she couldn't put her finger on what was causing it.

"Be that as it may..."

"Hey, if I can handle it, he can too, right?" Rex said. The rather obvious counterpoint that both Rex and Pyra appeared to handle what constituted their romantic relationship with very little grace or dignity boarded Morag's train of thought. She chose not to let it get off at Mouth Station.

"I...suppose so," she said, with very little commitment behind the words.

"If you can handle it so well, then HELP ME," Mythra yelped, her patience sailing well past her meagre limit and plopping into the usual swamp of sourness she resided in. Pyra at last seemed to remember her twin's presence and glanced down at Mythra with concern.

"Help you? Is something wrong, Mythra?"

"Is...is something wr-NIA. I need help about  _Nia,"_ Mythra snapped, wriggling out of Pyra's embrace to give herself more room to irritably fold her arms.

Pyra blinked in confusion.

"You need help with Nia? But...you only just got together, didn't you?"

"Maybe they had a fight already. Wouldn't really surprise me," Rex said, scratching his head in thought. Mythra shot him an intense glare that Rex had to resist the urge to duck out of the way of. He still felt like his eyebrows were slowly singeing off under her gaze.

"The hell's that mean, 'wouldn't surprise you?' Like I'm that hard to get along with," she said with the strident tone of someone content to never find out how hard they are to get along with. Rex gave her an evasive "uh" in response. Realizing that the point was rapidily exiting the room, she shook her head and chased after it.

"L-look, we  _aren't_ together. She just...offered. And I don't know what to say to her," she mumbled, her head hung low and softly burning red. Pyra scooted her chair slightly closer to Mythra's. A hand rested on Mythra's shoulder, ready to drag her back into the hug if need be.

"Well...do you feel that way about her?" Pyra asked. Starting at the most basic level seemed wise to her.

"I don't think so."

"...So you should say no, then, right?"

Mythra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her hands, resting against her legs, clenched tightly. This did seem like the obvious answer, all things considered. Not interested, therefore tell her no. Simple. Clean. And yet, there was  _something,_ some insidious voice in her head trampling all over her perfectly good feelings and asking if she'd maybe considered having some  _different_ ones. And she had absolutely no idea why. It was, much like Nia herself, incredibly frustrating.

"That's the problem," she said, hoping Pyra, as a former resident of her head, might be able to talk some sense into these intrusive thoughts, "I...part of me doesn't want to say no."

"That means you must like her that way at least a little bit, right?" Rex said, dragging his own chair next to Pyra's, allowing them to flank Mythra on both sides. After a quick nudge from Rex, Pyra quickly swapped which of Mythra's shoulders she was providing physical reassurance to. This gave Rex space to add his own helpful hand to proceedings. Their double-shoulder pincer technique also effectively locked Mythra into her seat, shutting down any hope of escape.

"I don't...really know," Mythra answered helpfully.

"If part of you wants to say yes, then you gotta like something about her, right? Why don't you try telling us?" he said. His grip on her right shoulder tightened. Pyra's followed suit, pressuring the left. Mythra sighed in expasperation, lightly seasoned with some discomfort from the strength of their grips.

"I don't  _know_ what it is I like about her! I mean, if I asked you why you guys liked each other, would you be able t-" A procession of voices crushed hers underfoot, flattened and inaudible over the din.

"Well, he's very kind and considerate, he always tries to see the good in everyone, he..."

"I mean, she's so  _caring,_ and selfless, and she's probably the most determined person I've ever met..."

"The first thing about Pandy that caught my eye was her  _superb_ flair for the dramatic. The moment she struck a pose alongside me, I  _knew_  she was the one..."

"Look, I know he seems kinda dumb, but there's more to my Prince than you think, okay, he can say some pretty smart stuff when he wants to..."

"Alright, I  _get it,"_ Mythra said in defeat. The normally deadly impact of her glare was lessened somewhat by her having to share it amongst the four of them. What little power remained was gathered up and focused on a blank-faced Morag and quietly smiling Brighid.

"Well? Aren't you two gonna join in? Everyone else is having fun proving me wrong."

Morag shook her head slowly.

"I'd rather not. I've a letter scheduled to arrive on Brighid's desk in a week, and I'd prefer not to spoil the contents for her."

"I'm looking forward to it, Lady Morag."

"Thank you, Brighid. The flowers should arrive alongside it, as well. Roses this month, I believe."

"Wonderful."

Mythra stared at the pair in disbelief for a moment. As little as she might know about relationships- little enough to be taking advice from Rex and Pyra, who still couldn't kiss in public without erecting a modesty curtain around themselves first- she nonetheless felt like she was doing better than Strictly Scheduled Romance. Mor Ardainian courtship, she concluded, was not the example she wanted to follow tonight.

"Okay, let's just say that  _hypothetically..."_ she began, stressing each and every syllable to the point that the word was barely recognizable, " _Hypothetically,_ I say yes. What do I say? ...Other than 'yes'."

"Ah, of course, the confession speech! Critical stuff. The bedrock upon which all love is formed. I've a book of unused ones, should you have need of them, Aegis," Zeke said. A battered black book was extracted from the depthes of his trenchcoat. With a flourish, he cracked it open to page 42, Confessions and Heartfelt Speeches and began flicking through the pages.

"I'm not doing a speech, Zeke."

Zeke gave Mythra an appalled look, as if she had just declared her intentions to punch Nia in the face and tug her ears.

"No speech...? Are you quite sure? I've got some heart-melters in here, you know."

"I'm just gonna  _tell her,_  okay? I'm not like you, I don't need to make a damn performance out of it."

"I'll have you know confessional speeches are an  _essential_ component of any romance," Zeke said, injecting his claim with an overdose of confidence. "Why, I've got our chum's speech written down here, too."

"My...my what?" Rex asked with a frothy mixture of embarassment and confusion. He liked to think he had a decent grasp on his life history, and this seemed like a pretty unlikely thing for him to have missed.

"Your confession speech, chum. Would've moved me to tears, but I was rather preoccupied at the time."

"I-I never made a  _speech!_ I just kind of...told her. _"_

"Are you sure about that, chum? The evidence is rather against you," Zeke said. He flipped forward a few pages in his tome before tapping the offending article a couple of times with his finger.

"Now, this will take some  _re-enactment._  I'll play you, of course, chum, since I've got the script. Pandy, you be Mythra..."

"Aw, man..." Pandoria said with slightly too much dissappointment for Mythra's liking.

"And Mythra, you be Pyra. Now, both of you get up and stand behind me."

"You wanna try a re-cast, Zeke? 'Cause I'm seeing some problems. How is this gonna help me, anyway?" Mythra said, remaining firmly in her seat. Even if she'd wanted to indulge him, she was still a prisoner of Pyra and Rex's overbearing Love And Concern, trapped by their comforting hands. Zeke tutted at his own thoughtlessness.

"Ah, of course, what am I thinking? You're quite right, Aegis. Chum, you be Pyra. Behind me, right-hand side."

Escape seemed unlikely to Rex, but his unyielding optimism told him it was still entirely possible Zeke would turn the page and find a more interesting speech, one that he hadn't unwittingly ghost-written. He glanced towards Pyra with a hopeful expression. Her head shook gently, her apologetic eyes whispering 'someone has to do this, and it might as well be you, Rex.' His narrowing eyes whispered back 'you have to do it next time.'

Sighing in resignation, Rex stood up and shuffled behind Zeke, adopting a clumsy impersonation of Pyra's body language. The resemblance was somewhat lacking. Rex's interpretation of "demure" began and ended at clasping his hands together and staring at the ground. Pandoria, as a top-marks student of the Zeke Von Genbu Acting School, slid into the role of Mythra with ease, folding her arms and adopting an unpleasant scowl.

"Hey, Prince, say something to me, I gotta get into character," she said, an irritable edge already being layered onto her voice. Zeke grinned at her in acknowledgement.

"Good evening, Mythra, and how are you to-"

"Shut it, dumbass," she said, turning her nose up at her Driver.

"Oh  _come on,_ I don't sound like that, do I?!" Mythra complained.

"Perfect, Pandy, absolutely spot-on," Zeke said, confirming that she really did sound like that. With Pandoria prepped, he turned his coaching duties to Rex, a newcomer to the field.

"Now you, chum. Good evening, Pyra, and how are you today?"

"Uh...F-fine?" Rex murmured, avoiding eye contact with Zeke. Acting was not his strong suit. Trying to impersonate Pyra also filled him with a certain amount of dread. The possibility of his interpretation offending her was very real and rather upset him.

"Close enough. Right then, chum, Pandy, let us  _begin,"_ Zeke scanned the relevant passage in his book before continuing. "The scene: a long-dead Titan, forgotten by much of Alrest- the fabled  _Cliffs of Morytha."_

"...Uh, if this is what I think it is, I...didn't  _confess_ , Zeke, I just said I-" Rex began quietly, his objection shoved out of the spotlight by Zeke's rampaging monologue.

"Journeying to save his lost love, our chum confronts the fiendish Malos and the cold-blooded Jin, his stalwart companion The Zekenator at his side!"

"Zeke, I find that a story is oftentimes more enjoyable when one arrives at the action in a reasonable timeframe," Morag interrupted with a small tinge of exasperation in her voice.

"I am creating  _ambience,_ Inquisitor," Zeke retorted, before staring at her intently for a moment.

"Say, Morag..."

"I'm afraid not. I believe I can speak on Brighid's behalf on this matter as well."

"Lady Morag is quite correct."

"You don't know what I was going to ask!" Zeke pouted.

"We are not playing the part of Malos or Jin," she said firmly.

"...How regrettable," Zeke muttered despondently. After recovering from the trauma of seeing his dreams burnt to the ground by the famed azure flames of Mor Ardain's most powerful spoilsport, he craned his neck towards the doorway leading to Tora's workshop.

"TORA! DO YOU FANCY AN EXCITING CAREER IN THE WORLD OF ACTING!?" he bellowed through.

"Tora prefer more heroic role than Malos! Can Tora play part of Tora?" came the distant reply.

"You aren't relevant to the scene, my man!"

"Then Tora stay put."

"Bah. We shall simply use our imaginations then. Our chum is locked into deadly combat with the dreaded Malos!" Zeke's hands curled around an imaginary sword, his arms swinging wildly at the air. Brighid silently scooped a few of the plates in her hands and set them underneath the table, for safety. Now free of obstacles, Zeke's swings grew faster, covering wider arcs. Morag held onto her hat, just in case.

"Pyra, his beloved, lies motionless on the ground. As if in a fit of madness, he begins to speak to her, yet she doesn't respond!" His voice lowered as he adopted a stage whisper.

"Eyewitnesses have claimed that though the Aegis lay still, for a split second, two shimmers could be seen behind him, their spirits reaching out to him in his moment of desperation!"

"Zeke, I know all this. That's me. I did that. How's this supposed to help, again?" Mythra said.

"I'm...not sure he's doing this to help you anymore," Pyra replied sadly.

"And what, oh  _what,_ did his beloved say to him!?"

"Uh, am I supposed to be talking right now? Pyra...uh, said I should just abandon them, right?" Rex said, looking searchingly at Pyra. She nodded in confirmation.

"I...think that means you're next, Pandoria," he said. Maybe Zeke's enthusiasm was infectious. He suddenly felt oddly invested in making this production work.

"Huh? Wha?" Pandoria said, glancing around as if she were hoping Poppi was in a corner holding up some cue cards for her. She refolded her arms, hunching over slightly to enhance her Pout Aura.

"Rex, you idiot, just leave us and get out of here!" she shouted.

"The hell? I was way nicer than that," Mythra said, unintentionally shifting into a copy of Pandoria's pouting posture.

"Artistic license," Pandoria replied with a shrug. Just in front of her, Zeke geared up for his big debut.

"Abandon you!? When you are injured, I feel your pain! When you feel pain, I feel the sorrow in your heart!"

"Zeke, seriously, I know. I remember him saying that. It was pretty good. For Rex," Mythra said with escalating frustration.

"...Thanks?" Rex said, aware that if you're going to take a compliment from Mythra, you have to accept it being gift-wrapped in barbed wire.

"Rex  _is_ good, Mythra. H-he...speaks from the heart. It, um...I like it a lot."

"T-thanks..." he said again, rather happier to take one of Pyra's sugar-wrapped compliments.

"Now, here's the critical line, chaps, ears open! Though he hears their pleas, he rejects the Aegis' words!" Zeke's voice lurched into a crude approximation of Rex's accent, entering a world where the letter g has no place at the end of words. "You really think I can just stand by like this?!

Zeke paused yet again, turning to Rex and attempting to convey a wink at him. Not content with this, he then turned to Pyra and slipped her an extra wink. She didn't really get what he was going for and smiled nervously at him. Turning back to face his invisible theater audience, Zeke inhaled deeply to give the crucial line the gusto it deserved.

"And watch someone I  _love_ suffer?!" he yelled, emphasising the word "love" to breaking point. His line delivered, Zeke bowed, basking in the approval he was certain would be sailing his way any moment now. He turned back towards Rex with a knowing grin.

"You see, chum?  _That's_ a confession speech. I  _coud_ go on, if you'd prefer. You had rather a lot to say to Pyra, according to the book." He beamed with utter pride at Rex. A perfect performance of an outstanding speech. Surely Rex would be  _honoured._

"Uh, Zeke?"

"Yes, chum? No need to be modest, it  _was_ a top notch confession."

"Zeke, that's...I didn't, though."

Zeke gawked at Rex in disbelief. He was pretty sure you weren't allowed to throw rotten food at theater performances anymore, and yet, here Rex was, tossing mouldy tomatoes his way like it was a fine passtime.

"What  _ever_ do you mean, chum? Do I need to repeat the line? And watch someone I  _LOVE_  suffer?!"

"I know, it's just at the time, I meant that...platonically. To, well, both of them."

" _Platonically?!_ You don't get to bellow something like that and mean it like you're all just great pals!"

"You seem to be forgetting, Zeke," Morag said, throwing her metaphorical hat into the debate whilst keeping a tight grip on her real hat, "That Rex does have something of a habit of using the term 'love' rather  _loosely._ I believe Mythra is currently agonizing over someone who has personally experienced his... _dramatic_ proclaimations of platonic affection."

"I-I don't use it  _loosely,_  I ju-"

"You know, Rex, Lady Morag and I have always considered you family, in a way," Brighid interjected with a warm tone.

"Aw, thanks, Brighid! I love you guys, too!"

It took Rex a few seconds of staring at Brighid's smirk to realize what he'd done. He grumbled and slunk back into his seat.

"So... _how_ , exactly, is all that meant to help me?" Mythra asked, no longer certain what the concept of "patience" was, or if she'd ever really had any to begin with. Zeke whipped round to face her, planting his hands on his hips.

"Isn't it  _obvious,_ Aegis?"

Mythra sighed in roughly the same way a dragon blows smoke out its nostrils before breathing fire.

"No," she said, packing lethal levels of fury into the simple word.

"Regardless of whether our chum actually confessed, the  _spirit_ of love still shines through: a speech, a grand gesture, it proves your love, enshrines it in history forever as the  _culminating moment_ of a budding romance! I wrote down our chum's apparantly-not-a-confession because it shook me to my core! His love, his dedication! They were evidently not on display there, but it rather seemed that way at the time! Tell Nia how you feel with such gusto, and yours will be a partnership to last  _centuries!_ "

Throughout this entire monologue, Zeke had cycled through a variety of poses, each one straining his joints to breaking point. They helped punctuate the extremely serious nature of his words. As it drew to a close, he pointed directly at Mythra's face, as if to tell her that  _what came next was up to her._

Instinct compelled Mythra to call him an idiot and possibly try and bend his finger backwards. For some strange reason, though, Zeke's cavalvade of absolute bullshit was resonating with her. If you peeled back the multiple layers of patented Zekenator gibberish,  _something_ in there made sense. Mythra looked down in thought, then peered up at Zeke.

"So...I should do something that makes an impact, right? Don't just  _tell_ her normally,  _do_ something that she'll remember?" she said, a possibly ill-advised idea taking shape in her mind.

"Exactly, Aegis! You march up to your furry-earred love, and you  _let her know_ in a way she'll never forget!"

"L-love is...kinda strong," she mumbled, still not really sure  _what_  she thought of Nia right now, "But...yeah. I think I know what I wanna do."

Mythra shook off Pyra's hand from her shoulder and rose to her feet, marching to the front door.

"Wish me luck, I guess," she said without terribly much confidence, before exiting the house.

"I...hope it goes well for her," Pyra said worriedly.

"With the Zekenator's tutelage behind her? They'll be newlyweds by the end of the year."

"Either that or they never speak to one another again," Morag said.

"Oi! My advice is highly-sought after! ...I assume."

"I must say, this has all been a fascinating display to watch," came a new voice in the conversation. The group turned towards an ignored corner of the room, only to notice Dromarch squatting rather happily, as if nothing was odd about the situation.

"...Dromarch, have you been here this whole time?" asked Rex.

"Indeed."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Pyra added.

"I suppose there is little harm in telling you, now that Miss Mythra has left the premises. My Lady assigned me to...well, observe. To see what Miss Mythra did, should she not provide an immediate answer. She, ah...told me it was to see if 'Mythra did anything funny.' I feel I've come away with some amusing anecdotes to tell."

"I must say, I'm impressed," Brighid said, "Even I didn't notice you were here."

Dromarch chuckled in response.

"Cats are known for their stealthy nature, Lady Brighid."

* * *

For all her haste to leave the room and  _find that catgirl,_ Mythra hadn't really stopped to consider the specifics of the plan. The most immediate problem is that "I'm going on a walk" is a rather broad statement. The magic of walking is that it can take you in just about any direction you choose. Torigoth was a large town. Mythra was not inclined to scour the entire town for Nia. Therefore, she'd decided to camp out in front of Tora's house and wait. It'd be hard for her to miss Nia this way.

This, unfortunately, created the secondary problem of "how long a walk is Nia going on?" Mythra had been waiting for fifteen minutes, fidgeting on the doorstep and tapping her foot the entire time. Squatting at the door waiting for Nia made her feel like an idiot, not least because she  _knew_ Nia would immediately crack a joke about it. A smug grin and a greeting of "Ooh, been waitin' for me all this time, have you? Didn't know you cared so much," were inevitable.

She also knew that this was a suffering she had no choice but to endure. Going back inside was out of the question. You don't exit a room with  _intent_ like that and then walk back in saying "look, she isn't here yet, can I just hang out until it's more dramatically appropriate to leave?" Especially not with Zeke in the room, eager to whip out his homemade Drama Lawyer business card and inform you that you're in violation of Section 5, Article 7 of the Climactic Romantic Moments Act.

And so, she waited, struggling to keep her composure. She knew what she wanted to do. It was, theoretically, perfect. Nia would  _theoretically_ never forget it, just as Zeke said.

Theory, of course, had a strained relationship with practice. The longer Mythra sat there, the more she thought about  _the plan_ , the more doubt started planting its thumb on her blueprints and smudging all the ink. It was a pretty simple idea, all things considered, but it could also be undone in an instant if she showed any hesitation. It needed to be done in one bold, fluid motion, at the perfect angle. Every way she could fail played through her head at once as she analyzed how to  _not screw this up._

A flash of yellow in her peripheral vision burst through the wall of her thought process. Nia was  _back._ She glanced up. The smug grin was under construction, her lips curling upwards in the most offensive manner Nia could muster. Her mouth began to open, exactly as Mythra predicted.

"Ooh, been waitin' for me all this ti-"

Adrenaline booted all of Mythra's higher brain functions out of the captain's chair and sent her propelling towards Nia at a dangerous pace, practically tackling the bewildered catgirl. Before she'd had time to course-correct her sentence into a yelp of surprise, Mythra had grabbed Nia by the shoulders and shoved their lips together at a speed that almost turned the kiss into a headbutt. After a moment of wide-eyed gawking at Mythra's  _very close_ face, Nia decided to roll with it and return the kiss, wrapping her own arms around Mythra's back.

Things, Mythra felt, seemed to be going pretty well. She'd managed to maintain the kiss for a solid ten seconds before normal service resumed in her head, her subconscious gently reminding her that she was currently kissing Nia and that this was something of an unusual turn of events.

Her eyes shot open and she shoved Nia away, breaking her hold and jolting backwards. Her face picked out the most glowing shade of red to coat itself in. Infuriatingly, Nia seemed to have taken the whole thing rather well. The very brief open-mouthed surprise on her face quickly gave way to a familiar smirk.

"So that'd be a yes, then?" she said, making a point of wiping her slightly moistened lips. Given the choice between trying to talk and  _not_ talking, Mythra took the path of least resistance, nodding quickly at Nia.

"Good," Nia said, stepping past Mythra towards the door, "How 'bout we go tell everyone, eh? I bet Pyra'll be happy for you, at least."

This was, for Mythra anyway, something of a 'been there, done that' situation. At least she'd get to congratulate Nia, too. And yet, some nagging impulse was telling her that this wasn't  _good enough._ Without thinking, she grabbed Nia's arm, dragging her back towards her.

"What? You don't wanna tell 'em? No one's gonna think it's weird, Mythra. There's worse in that room than you, y'know. Zeke, for one thing."

Mythra chose to withhold that it was Zeke that had pushed her to this. For all his...Zekeness, Pandoria was right: he could actually say something useful if he felt like it. Nonetheless, something about this felt off to her. Using her other arm, she pulled Nia back round to face her.

"One more time," she mumbled into one of Nia's ears.

"Huh?"

"I wanna...try that again," she said, cranking the volume up to just barely above Very Shy Mouse Clearing Its Throat. Nia stared at her searchingly before grinning in realization.

"Can't resist me, already, eh?" she said smarmily. In the uncomfortable silence that followed, she gave her response some thought before shuddering. "Architect help me, I sounded like Zeke there, didn't I?"

"...A little bit," Mythra said, "But...look, just lemme try again, okay?"

"Try what again?" Nia said, shifting closer to Mythra, peering up at her with an even more unbearable smirk. Mythra turned her head away from Nia, her eyes lowering to the ground.

"Y-you know... _that."_

"And what would  _that_  be, hm?" Nia whispered, bringing her face inches away from Mythra's.

"L-let me kiss you again, dammit!" Mythra yelled, her gaze managing to match Nia's again. "I-I wanna do it properly, okay?! W-without...pushing you off."

"Whatever you say," Nia replied, closing what little gap remained between them and moving in for a second kiss. Mythra's shoulders tensed up as soon as Nia brought their lips together. She tried to retain a little bit of control over the situation and pull Nia towards her for a hug, but her hands could only bring themselves to lightly brush against her sides.

Eventually, however, she could feel herself acclimatising to the unfamiliar sensation of the kiss, and Nia's proximity to her. Her posture relaxed, and she willingly pulled Nia into a tighter embrace. She was, at this point, quite content to remain kissing Nia.

Then she remembered breathing was important. Tapping Nia's shoulder, she jerked her head back and gulped down a few mouthfuls of air.

"You've got a nose, y'know. Helps for this kinda thing."

"Shut it. It's not like I'm used to it yet."

"Neither am I, but you don't see me complainin'. C'mon, let's get movin' already," Nia said, giving Mythra a swift boop on her nose. Opening the door, she stood in the doorway and beckoned Mythra in. Rubbing her nose and muttering numerous combinations of the words "shithead" and "cat," Mythra followed behind her, mentally preparing herself for round two of Pyra's overjoyed reactions.

* * *

It was 2am. Everyone except for Tora had retired to their rooms at the Coedwig Inn, exhausted and with burgeoning stomach aches from Pyra's dinner. Around half of the food she'd prepared had been eaten, most of it by Zeke. The remaining half of the gargantuan meal had been slid into a large bucket that Pyra had delivered to a rather bored Azurda, parked at the Torigoth Harbor and idly peoplewatching for much of the day. Given his size, it still only added up to a modest snack for the Titan, but he'd accepted it with gratitude nonetheless.

Mythra lay sprawled out on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. As it turns out, she had rather underestimated Pyra's enthusiasm. What should have been round two had somehow converted into a third, and later fourth, session of hugging and saying "I'm so  _happy_  for you two!" in a voice that sounded perpetually on the verge of tears. With Rex acting as her backing chorus somewhere behind her.

She sighed silently. It had been an...eventful day. One where she had somehow stumbled into  _something_ with Nia. She wasn't certain if she could accurately describe it as a "relationship" yet. It was, at the moment, an agreement that they both found kissing each other to be fairly enjoyable, and as such they'd like to make a regular habit of it.

Truth be told, she still didn't understand why she'd gone for it. Nia consistently and gleefully pissed her off at every opportunity, teasing her relentlessly. It was, she quietly realized, something she'd done with Rex quite often as well, when they'd all been travelling together.

Rex. Who, Mythra knew, Nia had at some point had feelings for.

They at least had that in common.

It occured to Mythra that if Nia was only this obnoxious to her and to  _Rex,_ this would imply that she just had a very skewed way of showing affection. Which further implied that things would only get worse from here on in.

She sighed again, and glanced to her left, towards Pyra and her offensively soundly sleeping form, curled up happily in her bed. Almost as soon as her head had touched the pillow, Pyra had dove head-first into sleep. Evidently with concrete around her legs, considering how deep a sleep it seemed to be. It was a trait she shared with Rex, who had patented the ability to transition into a Like A Log state the second he felt like sleeping, adequete bedding or not. Living semi-outdoors on a Titan's back for five years had given him a pretty flexible opinion on what a suitable bed looked like.

Mythra couldn't help but wish they'd been generous enough to share this ability with her, too, instead of keeping it to themselves. Sleeping was an uphill struggle for her at the best of times without her mind being plagued by persistent images of irritating Gormotti girls.

As tired as she was, she could not get Nia, or recent Nia-related events, out of her head. The entirety of her, in retrospect, rather awkward attempt at a kiss had played and replayed in her head a few hundred times over the course of the night, and she strongly suspected she could hit quadruple digits before long.

In a way, she wasn't all that pleased with how her plan had panned out. The  _idea_  was that she'd be such a dazzling force of romantic spontaneity that Nia would be stunned into total silence by her  _powerful kissing_. Mythra  _wanted_ to establish that she wasn't always going to be the one flustered and on the back foot in this relationship-  _she_ could do the same right back to Nia, if she wanted to.

Of course, in reality, Nia had somehow managed to come out of that one with her composure intact, ready to launch into a new teasing session.

This was, Mythra felt, a problem.

She needed another try. She needed something  _drastic,_ something that Nia couldn't turn around on her, but she was coming up blank. The brief burst of inspiration Zeke had given her had long since worn off.

That is, until she focused her previously vacant gaze back onto Pyra.

Pyra. Her and Rex were the only two people Mythra seemed to be able to tease without it getting turned back onto her. She'd been onto a real winner when she'd stumbled onto Pyra's questionable hobby of sneaking into Rex's room at night. It had only been a few hours ago, but it felt like days at this point.

She stifled a small laugh to herself. It had been kind of mean, admitedly. Neither of them had taken it well. But it was pretty funny to her at the time. The nagging whisper in the back of her mind reminding her that this was probably why Nia acted the way she did towards her was duly noted, and then put in the corner to agonize over later.

Still, she thought, as...well,  _creepy_ as Pyra's little habit had been, she was beginning to see a few advantages to it.

Chiefly that Nia would probably not expect to wake up and find her bed had received a free delivery of one Aegis, with extra salt. Might find it a bit of an overwhelming discovery, even. Despite it being far from her proudest moment, Mythra  _did_ have a useful case study in how poorly Rex had handled that situation. Nia had more composure than Rex- that is to say, Nia  _had_ composure- but even she shoudn't be able to resist. It wasn't exactly subtle, but she wasn't really seeing much use for subtlety lately.

Mythra grinned maliciously. She flung her sheets off the bed into a heap on the floor and hopped onto her feet. Adopting an awkward mix between a run and tiptoeing in an attempt to minimize her noise, she crept out into the hallway and made her way towards Nia's room.

She opened the door as slowly as she could, trying to avoid any creaking that might give her away. Slowly, carefully, she padded across the floor, eyes scanning frantically to make sure she didn't manage to trip over Dromarch halfway through the journey.

Eventually, she reached her destination. Nia's bed, the Gormotti of the hour hunched into a ball under the sheets. Another grin spread across her face as she gently lifted the sheets just high enough for her to slide in under them. Wriggling into a suitably comfy positon on the bed, she prepared to execute the final stage of the plan: move as close to Nia as possible, for maximum surprise during the wake-up.

She shifted herself forward, her head just behind Nia's. This time, everything was set up perfectly.

"Well,  _someone's_ eager. Y'know Dromarch's in the room, too, right?"

Mythra's breath hitched, her steady advance towards Nia halted by the surprise. The  _very awake, very much not asleep_ Gormotti girl rolled over to face her, a toothy grin pre-prepared for Mythra's annoyance.

"Y-you're  _awake,_ " she wheezed, frozen in place as the feline fiend in front of her started to close the gap herself.. Nia chuckled at the blunt obviousness of the statement.

"Yup."

" _Why?!"_

"You think I couldn't hear you comin' in? Figured it was gonna be you when I heard the door open." Nia's ears twitched as she said this, as if offering a demonstration of her sensitive hearing. Mythra could just about make out their flicking silhouette in the darkness.

"It's...it's not what it looks like, okay?"

Nia propped her head up on her hand, lifting it slightly above Mythra's so she could literally look down on her.

"Isn't it? Looks a lot like you're crawlin' into my bed."

"I-I wanted to...surprise you," Mythra said rather limply, leaving out the several hours of frustrated revenge-plotting that had led up to this failure. Her eyes briefly flicked downwards to avoid Nia's gaze or her ever-present smirk, to try and drum up some composure.

In her attempt to slap together a veneer of calmness, Mythra unwittingly only made things worse for herself. As it turns out, Nia prefered to remain fairly underdressed in bed when she could help it, a stark contrast to Mythra's loose but relatively covering long shirt.

This was not something Mythra had been prepared for at all, given that when the group had all travelled together sleeping in their clothes had been pretty common. She'd never gotten a firm grasp of what everyone would wear under more forgiving circumstances than "we should probably wear our stuff in case we get attacked in the middle of the night." Her quick glance southwards had given her something of an unexpected crash course in the subject.

The brief tour of Below Nia's Neckline had indicated that Nia's underwear was about all she was wearing. The faint glow of both of their Core Crystals had provided her just enough light to get a decent look, made all the worse by Mythra's natural Analysis skill, which let her observe and memorize tiny details at a glance.

Nia, she had to admit, looked pretty good. This was about as specific a description as she could bring herself to think about. The state of her composure had not really stabized thanks to what she'd seen.

Oh, sure, she'd  _seen_ Nia before, at the hot springs, but context mattered.  _That_ was a public bathing area, with Pyra hovering around the edges of her consciousness, chirping "It's okay, you can go first!" as she sank into the water.

But  _this time,_ she was alone with Nia. In her inn room. In her bed. With about three inches of space between them, a knowing grin on the catgirls' face, and the knowledge that they were now apparantaly A Couple acting as the final ingredient in the soup that her brain was currently melting into.

Mythra's heart was racing, and it was clearly putting in a gold medal-worthy performance. She clenched her eyes shut as tight as she could to avoid gawking at any part of Nia she might take notice of, her body trembling slightly from the embarassment. A sigh pierced the brief silence.

"Oi, relax, would ya? This was your idea, y'know."

Mythra's trembling slowed down a little in compliance. This was about the best she could manage at the moment. Another sigh came, softer this time.

"Alright, alright. Look...c'mere, okay?" Nia whispered, her hands carefully pulling Mythra closer to her, eliciting a sharp gasp. Once their faces were close enough together, Nia leaned forward and pressed her lips against Mythra's for the third time that night, though this time it was far gentler. A hand ran soothingly through Mythra's long hair, the other wrapped around her back.

A part of Mythra felt like she should be having a catastrophic meltdown from this, considering most of Nia was currently pressed up against her, being unhelpfully soft and warm. Her gradually slowing heartrate and stablized breathing seemed to disagree with that.

Ignoring all her self-conscious embarassment, she returned the embrace and pulled Nia in as tight as she could. Eventually, Nia broke off the kiss and looked up at Mythra, her smile warmer and more sincere.

"Better?"

A tiny nod and a pair of very flushed cheeks answered her question.

"Good," she said, wriggling around to find an optimal hugging position. She eventually laid her head just next to Mythra's Core Crystal, humming in contentment.

"See? Isn't this nice?"

Mythra rested her chin on top of Nia's head, her right hand reaching up to mirror Nia's stroking of her hair.

"...Yeah. It is," she admitted quietly.

"Glad we agree," Nia said, before letting out a yawn. She closed her eyes, letting her body go limp against Mythra's.

"G'night, Mythra," she said softly.

"...Night."

Mythra felt her eyes drooping shut, her conscious fading as she ran her hand through Nia's hair one last time. For the first time in over five hundred years, Mythra fell asleep quickly and peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is perhaps not the ending you may want or hope for from this story. Unfortunately, it is the one I went with. I wanted to bring back the very ill-advised events of the first chapter in some way, and so I did.
> 
> If you persisted in reading through this whole thing, thank you very much and I hope you enjoyed it. This story is, if we're honest, remarkably inconsistent in quality and characterization, but I'd like to think it's improved somewhat since the first chapter. I'm always trying to get the characters more accurate, even if it seems like I'm completely failing in this regard, so please feel free to comment on any problems.
> 
> Also please look forward to the pages of Rex/Pyra trashfluff I'm probably going to produce after this.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to apologize again for how bad these are.


End file.
